Survival
by Showers' Inc
Summary: Adam is alive. Detective Maria Cassidy is the only person who can keep him that way, but Jigsaw is targeting both of them. Every piece of the puzzle fits, now Adam and Maria must solve it in time to save themselves and wins Jigsaw's game once and for all
1. Adam

Survival

A/N: All right, everybody. I'm a huge Saw fan, even thought I'm terrified of clowns. I liked Adam and Lawrence, even though they had done bad things in their lives. I didn't really like Saw II, except for the kick-ass traps they had. So, I'm writing my own thing. It's about Adam after Jigsaw leaves him for dead.

Chapter One: Adam

I don't know how long I screamed. I wanted to kill Jigsaw for all he did to me, to Lawrence. I hoped desperately he would make it out, but I knew I was hoping against hope. He cut off his foot, for God's sake. Who could survive that? I wanted to think Lawrence could, if he really wanted . . .

I don't know how long I was in that room. Whether it was days, weeks, I was never really sure. I didn't care. I just knew I had to survive. I had to wait it out. I judged the length of time by the smell Zep's body was emitting. I never killed a man, but I guess desperate times call for desperate measures. Jesus, I sounded like my grandfather with all that philosophical shit.

After he got up and left, I had no idea what to do. The cell phone rang again and again . . . I was thinking of cutting my own foot off to get away from it. That thought made me want to puke. Of course, like it made much of a difference. The decay around me was nauseating. I tried to sleep, hoping it would take me away from that living nightmare. But, every time I woke up, I was still there, just waiting to die.

I yelled at him, every time I woke up. I knew he was still watching me. Probably through that damn camera behind the mirror, the sick bastard . . .

"I'll still here, you son of a bitch!" I shouted as loud as I could. "Try something else 'cause I won't die down here! You think I don't appreciate my life? Well, I'm still here!"

I wanted him to know that I wasn't going to just lie down and take this bullshit. I was going to fight, one way or another. I knew I could better my life, I wanted to. He had to let me out eventually. I kept calling for him, asking where Lawrence was.

Then, I was just too weak. I had no food, no water, and the air I had to inhale was reeking with stale blood and rotting corpses/body parts. Hell, that would've been a great idea for an air freshener company. It would make someone millions . . . It's kinda strange how even when I'm stuck in a damn bathroom, I'm still sarcastic.

The rest of the time was blurry. I kept fading in and out, sleeping most of the time to try and gain some energy back. That did no good. I knew was dying, but I wanted to live so badly . . . I remembered waking up and calling to him. I think I was almost begging him to let me outside, if only for a minute. I wanted to see the outside before I died . . .

"You can kill me," I sad through an extremely dry thought. "Let me go outside and then you can kill me. Please, please . . . I just want to see the outside one more time."

A few minutes later, something crashed against the heavy wooden door. It went again and again until the sound of cracking wood split through the air. The door was broken apart and a harsh glare of light filtered through. I was too weak to hold my hand up to protect my eyes.

The fluorescent lights turned on above me, burning through my eye lids. I couldn't see who made it to through the room. The voices meshed together so much, I couldn't understand anything. He was taking to the outside . . .

"Jig . . . saw," I managed before blacking out.


	2. Maria

Chapter Two: Maria

I had to hold my breath to keep from gagging. It smelled like road-kill down there. Rickers and Fetch flicked on their flashlights behind me. I did the same. The hallway walls were covered in pipes and mildew. The place was obviously unattended.

"What crawled down here and died?" Fetch asked, spitting on the floor.

I debated about doing the same, but decided against it. I was supposed to be the presentable lady, after all. It was one of those smells that stuck in your senses until you could taste it. Trust me, it was no gourmet meal. I moved my flashlight steadily from side to side in front of me.

I stopped when it caught a body, lying on the ground.

"Well, looks like he did, Fetch," I sighed.

Our flashlights examined the man. Dirty blonde hair, a torn white shirt that was covered in blood, a bloody pant leg, and no right foot. The blood had pooled and curdled beneath the pant leg. Poor guy . . .

"It's Dr. Gordon," Rickers said suddenly. "He's been missing for a week."

"What happened to his foot?" I asked. I knew the doctor wasn't one-footed.

"It looks like he bled out."

"Well, of course he bled out," Fetch shivered. "He cut off his damn foot!"

"Then where's the foot?" Rickers asked as he shook his head, disgusted to even have to ask a question like that.

"Come on, we'll keep looking," I suggested, leading the two deeper down the hall.

I stopped again when I noticed another body. This one was tall and black with a familiar face . . .

"Holy shit, it's Tapp, Rickers," I said. "I haven't seen him since Sing was killed."

"What's he doing down here?" he asked, leaning down toward the decomposing body. "Looks like a bullet wound. What the hell happened?"

"It's gotta be Jigsaw," I muttered. "Keep going. We'll call for back-up in a little bit. Something else has to be here."

I led the way again. The hallway ended a little further down. A thick wooden door was on my left. I leaned toward it and listened. I thought I was crazy, but I swore I heard a voice. I looked at Fetch and Rickers.

"Someone's through that door," I mouthed, barely making a sound.

Fetch moved me out of the way and tried to open it. It was no good; it refused to budge against his weight. He cursed and glanced at Rickers. He gestured to the door.

"What do you say, big guy? You wanna go back to your college football days?"

Rickers grinned slightly. I moved out of the way, knowing it wasn't going to be pretty. The two large guys walked until they had their backs to the wall, lined up with the door. They ran in unison and struck the door with their shoulders. It shuddered violently, but nothing really effective happened. They backed up and did it again. It took three tries until the door splintered a little. One more time and they managed to bust through it. The room was pitch black.

The guys tore away more wood until we were able to make through. Rickers went first, I followed him, and Fetch came in behind me. The floor was sticky and I nearly lost my shoe in the mess. Fetch ran into me and I nearly fell over. I elbowed him in the stomach angrily.

"Whoops, sorry," I lied. Sometimes he was so . . . annoying. That was putting it nicely.

Rickers found a light switch and flipped it on. The fluorescent glare burned my eyes. I held my hand up, cursing to myself. I looked around the room. We were stepping in blood. It was everywhere in that room. Fetch made a gagging sound and pointed down. A rotting foot was there on the floor, a thick metal shackle still clamped around the ankle.

"Well, we found Gordon's foot," Rickers sighed.

"Jig . . . saw."

The voice made me jump. I clutched Rickers' arm, nearly hyperventilating from the jolt my heart gave me. The three of us looked to the corner of the room. A man was chained to a set of rusty pipes, his breathing raspy and labored.

"Jesus, he's still alive," I gasped. "Fetch, go call in back-up. There has to be an emergency unit here quick."

He nodded and took off down the hall. Rickers carefully removed my hand from its death grip on his jacket sleeve. He crouched down and touched the man's neck. I stayed back, watching him. He would've been pretty cute if he hadn't been so dirty . . . and covered in blood.

The body beside him had its head bashed in. A broken porcelain toilet tank lid was beside the man that was still alive. It was covered in blood and what I assumed was brains. I walked around the room, looking for clues. I stopped and looked at the broken mirror. The camera still had a steady red light.

"His heart rate's dropping pretty steadily," Rickers said. "He may not make it."

"There's a camera, Rickers," I said. "It looks like it's still recording . . ."

"Well, remember what the others said? The bastard likes to watch them suffer."

I turned to him and shook my head.

"What happened?"

Rickers shrugged. "By the looks of it, the two guys chained went insane. Gordon cut his own foot off to get out of the room and this one brained the other. There's a gun over here, too."

"I can't believe this guy. He chains two guys into a room and expects to have a fucking dinner and a show." I rejoined him and looked at the unconscious man. "Is he responsive at all?"

"No, he's in a coma-like state. He's too weak to stay awake. He's been down here for a couple of weeks, at least. He's gotta be a fighter to make it this far. No food or water for that long . . . any normal man would've been dead."

I touched his forehead gently. He exhaled heavily.

"Still . . . alive," he whispered, barely audible.

"You are," I muttered. "And you'll stay alive if you hold on a little longer, okay? We're getting you help."

"Maria, look," Rickers said suddenly. He pointed to the man's right shoulder. "He was shot right there. It looks like he lost a hell of a lot of blood."

"My God, I guess he had something to live for."

"Want . . . to live," he said weakly.

By the looks of it, I knew it was true.

"Don't worry, you will," I said quietly, taking his hand. "You just have to hold on a little longer . . ."

Rickers examined the paddle lock that was on the shackle around his ankle. "Wow, it seems like a normal paddle lock, but with that thick of a chain, there's no way to break it."

"Maybe the key's somewhere around here," I suggested.

He got up and looked around the room, just like I did. He seemed to find nothing, but after his second sweep, he stopped in front of the bathtub. He reached down and produced a key chain with a small key on it. He raised his eyebrow at me. He tried the lock and it opened easily.

"How could he not check the tub that's right beside him?" Rickers asked, bewildered.

We removed the shackle from the poor guy's ankle. Rickers picked him up as if he was a rag doll.

"Should we really move him?" I asked, worried about him.

"If we keep him down any longer, he'll be dead. Come on."

I followed him through the hallway, stepping over Tapp and Dr. Gordon in the process. He stopped at the ladder that was the only way out that we knew of. He readjusted the guy's body so he was riding piggy-back on him. Rickers looked at me.

"I have to try and make it up there with him. He's too weak to hold on to me, so I want you to follow me up and try to keep a hold of him if he slips off of me. You think you can pull that off?"

"Rickers, I went through the same training you did," I said. "I can lift over 250 pounds. I can handle it."

He grinned. "That's my girl. Here we go."

He gripped the ladder with one hand while holding the man's left arm with the other. He used a lot of his legs, pulling his bulky weight and the thinned man upwards. I went up a couple steps behind him, just in case he did slip. Rickers made it to the top and laid the guy down on the floor of the old house.

The two of us made it up just as the EMS guys showed. I leaned my ear over the guy's mouth. He was still breathing, but it was getting shallower every time he did. They put him in a stretcher, carried him to the ambulance, and were gone in seconds. The scene analyzers went into the house, led by Fetch and Rickers. I couldn't find the will to go back in there. It was just too . . .

I walked out to the alleyway beside the house and threw up forcefully beside a dumpster.

A/N: I'm glad everyone who read it likes this one. I got some good ideas comin', so stay close, oh fans of mine. I'll be back! Probably sometime later in the day! Lol.


	3. Flowers for Adam

Chapter Three: Flowers for Adam

A/N: Okay, guys, I've decided I'm going to alternate between Maria's and Adam's views each chapter. Sometimes the chapters will overlap, like kind of cover the same stuff or something like that, but they'll be from different points of view. Like they always say, there's always two sides to a story. I'll try to keep remembering to clarify who's POV it is, but holler at me if I forget. Thanks, and here's the next chapter for your reading pleasure! Lol.

**Adam's POV**

Light burned through my eyes again. That bastard still had me in the cell! I groaned in pain. It took forever to get my eyes open. I was tearing up badly since they weren't used to the light. I looked up and saw . . . a white ceiling. A clean white ceiling.

I shot up . . . from a bed. I clutched at my shoulder, feeling the pain course through it again. It was bandaged. I looked around and felt my heart jump to my throat. I was in a hospital room! A hospital room that was painted all white with some horrible rainbow-colored painting on a single wall, I had never seen anything more beautiful. IV's and whatever else poked into my veins. God, it was the greatest feeling in the world! But . . . how did I get there?

The metal handle of the door turned and it was pushed open. A woman around my age walked in, holding a Styrofoam cup that was steaming. She didn't look half-bad, dark hair and green eyes with a thin body (not anorexic, refuse to at anything thin, the pretty thin). She froze at the sight of me.

"You're awake!" she exclaimed. "They all thought you were dead!"

"Where am I?" I asked, still numb from realizing that I was alive.

"You're at the hospital. Well, you probably figured that out already, but you've been out for almost three weeks. They were starting to think they should pull the plug. We found you in a bathroom under an abandoned house."

I was quiet for a moment. "What about Lawrence?"

"Dr. Gordon? He was, uh . . ."

"Dead?"

She nodded, looking down at her heels. I cursed and dropped back on to my pillow. Why was I still alive when Lawrence didn't make it out? He had a family that cared about him, a daughter and a wife . . . I had nothing to live for. So why the hell was I still alive and Jigsaw just let Lawrence die?

"I'm sorry to bother you, but . . . what's your name?" she asked, sitting down in a plastic chair beside my bed. She crossed her legs professionally. I knew she was a cop.

"Adam," I sighed.

"My name's Maria Cassidy. It's nice to meet you, Adam. I just really wish it was under better circumstances."

"Yeah, so do I. Did it look like Lawrence suffered?"

She looked away again. "He bled to death. I'm not sure how that feels, so I couldn't tell you."

"Well, at least you're honest with me. I was ready for that 'I know he went peacefully' bullshit."

She smiled weakly, but it disappeared quickly. "Adam, how did you two end up down there?"

I closed my eyes, the images of my apartment flashing before me. "Jigsaw thought we didn't appreciate our lives. I was paid to spy on people . . ."

"What people?"

"I was paid to follow and photograph Lawrence. It proved that he was cheating on his wife. I can't even remember how long I did it, but—I'm sorry I did. He was . . . my friend. And because of those pictures, he was killed."

"You couldn't have stopped Lawrence from cheating on his wife."

I shook my head. "No, but if I hadn't taken the pictures, Jigsaw never would've known about it. It's my fault."

She took my hand and looked at me directly in the eyes. It unnerved me because I saw so many emotions behind them. "I know it hurts, but you can't blame yourself for it, Adam. All that does is tear you apart inside. Jigsaw did this, not you. Okay?"

I was quiet. I cursed myself for starting to cry . . . "Okay."

She smiled and let go of my hand. "Okay. I'm going to let you rest for now and then we'll have to ask you what happened. But we'll wait until you're ready. I'll be around, so if you need anything, just ask one of your nurses to find me."

I nodded, sniffing to get rid of the tears. Damn it, I looked like a frickin' baby in front of her, but all I could think about was Lawrence and what I had done. She stood up and grabbed her coffee cup.

"Sleep well, Adam," she said. "We'll get the guy that did this to you, I promise."

She left the room and closed it behind her gently. By the looks of it, I knew it was true. There was something to that woman. It looked like she wanted to catch this guy even more than the other cops did. It looked almost like it was . . . personal to her.

I didn't sleep while I was alone in the room. I suddenly started thinking that he would be right there when I woke up. Two nurses came in and checked my IV's and whatever. They increased my morphine dosage to help me with the pain. The lulling sensation forced me to doze off.

It was dark when I woke up. My head was throbbing and my shoulder was numb. I sat up and rubbed it tenderly. The only light was the dim one that was positioned above the bed. I yawned and looked around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary . . . until I saw them.

It was a small, clear vase with a floral arrangement in it. They were nothing special. Hell, I couldn't even recognize what kind of flowers they were. An envelope was sitting beside the vase, my name written nicely on it. I reached over and opened the envelope.

In it was a paper, neatly folded. I pulled out the paper and looked it over.

_Well, Adam. It looks like you get to live. Behave yourself now. Oh, and keep a close eye on that detective friend of yours; you never know when she might have some trouble. Take care, I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again._

_Best regards,_

A jigsaw piece was drawn underneath the writing. My stomach dropped heavily. I struck the call button a million times, calling for Maria all the while.


	4. Hospital Visit

Chapter Four: Hospital Visit

**Maria's POV**

Rickers practically forced me to leave the hospital that day. I wanted to make sure Adam would be okay, but he insisted that I went and got as much sleep as I could. I was being stubborn, but Rickers was practically my father. So I obeyed him and left the hospital after eight.

It was starting to get dark, so I sprinted to my car and unlocked the door as quick as I could. Even though I was supposed a hard-ass homicide detective, I was terrified of darkness. I drove home, humming to some songs on my favorite radio station until I parked in my driveway.

It was a small house, but it had been in my family for three generations, counting myself. My grandparents bought it, left it for my father, and he left it for me . . . before he was killed. Memories washed up on the surface of my brain and I inhaled heavily, imagining my dad's old cologne drifting from his bedroom (which was now where I slept) and into the living room.

I slipped off my heels and changed out of my work clothes in record time. I slipped on light pajama bottoms and a baggy shirt before flopping down on my bed and falling asleep instantly.

I was rudely awakened by my cell phone. I reached to my bed stand and groped around the surface, my eyes still closed. I cursed as I heard a thunk on the carpet. I touched the floor and eventually found my blaring cell phone. I flipped it open, cursing the whole time.

"What?" I asked irritably.

"We got an emergency at the hospital, Maria," Rickers' voice made me fully alert.

"Oh, God, he's not dead, is he?" I asked, sitting up.

"Worse. Just get here as quick as you can."

I hung up and got out of bed. I found my comfortable sneakers and my car keys. I was at the hospital about ten minutes later, dressed in my pajamas, sneakers, and my hair pulled back in a messy bun. I was sure I looked hideous, but emergencies were emergencies, not beauty pageants.

Rickers was standing with Fetch outside of Adam's room. Fetch looked like a kicked puppy, his face drooping as if he had been scolded. Rickers looked at me and knew that was exactly the case.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Well, we had a late night delivery for Adam," Rickers explained. "One guess who it's from."

"Jigsaw?" I muttered.

The two men nodded. My mouth dropped open.

"He was here? In this hospital, in Adam's _room_? And you missed him!"

"Fetch was standing guard," Rickers grumbled, eyeing him angrily. "I left for five minutes to get something to drink and a smoke. I come back, Adam's screaming at the top of his lungs and this damn idiot is asleep leanin' against the wall!"

"You fell asleep while guarding an eyewitness!" I exclaimed. I threw my hands up in the air. "You're lucky I don't have your ass fired right here and now!"

"I don't know what happened!" Fetch said defensively. "I was here, just fine and the next, I wake up on the floor 'cause Rickers kicked me."

"What was in the room?"

"Flowers," Rickers sighed. "There was a note with them, too. He was yelling for you. He hasn't said a word since we showed up."

"Call the commissioner and figure out what to do with him." I gestured to Fetch. "I don't want to lose you, Fetch, but they at least have to know your side of the story. I'll go talk to Adam."

I walked into the room and shut the door. He was sickly pale, staring at the painting on the wall on the other side of the room. I sat down in the plastic chair beside his bed. I read the note and shivered.

"I had the same reaction," Adam said quietly. He was watching me read the note. "Now he's after you because you helped me."

I shook my head. I had a feeling I knew why he wanted me and it wasn't because I helped get Adam out of that room . . . I looked at the bouquet of flowers, wishing they just weren't there. He was never going to give up.

For some reason, I thought Jigsaw would stop. I thought maybe he would let people ruin their own lives and suffer the consequences, like nature intended. But he was more determined than ever to make the world see what had gone wrong with all of us. He was playing God. It sickened me.

I stood up and glanced at Adam.

"I'll be back, but don't worry," I said. "We have someone guarding your door."

He nodded and didn't look at me. I was surprised to see someone so terrified. I walked out to see that Rickers and Fetch were gone. The commissioner was probably going to be pissed. If something had happened to Adam, we would never have known what went on down in that cell.

I leaned against the wall and sighed heavily.

"Problems, young lady?" a raspy, worn voice asked.

I looked up to see an old man walking by in a hospital gown. He had an IV monitor thing on a rolling post. He held on to it for balance. His face was creased deeply and stressed. He looked like he had suffered a lot in that hospital.

"Oh, nothing to worry about," I lied.

"I may be dying, but I know when someone's worried."

I stared at him. God, that voice was so familiar . . . At first I thought it reminded me of my grandfather, but it was deeper than that. Where had I heard it before?

"I'll be okay after all of this is over," I sighed.

"Well, maybe it will be sooner than you think," the man smiled. He walked slowly down the corridor and turned the corner.

I watched after him. That smile . . . unnerved me a little. He acted like he knew me and I never saw him before. What the hell was up with this hospital? I went to talk to the nurses' station to talk to some of them. Someone had to have seen him. Someone . . .

A/N: Please tell me I made it sort of apparent who the old man was. I was trying but I didn't want to flat out say it, but just in case . . . It's Jigsaw, people! Well, they said he liked to watch, so why not? The next chapters might take a while, but it's gonna get exciting! Thanks for reading and review if you would, please! I'd like some feedback on this fic.


	5. Nowhere to go

Chapter Five: Nowhere to go

**Adam's POV**

I convinced one of my night nurses that I was okay enough for them to take out the IV's. Once they left me alone for the night, I jumped out of the bed and paced for a while. I was scared, like about to shit my pants scared. I had to do something, but what? Run out into a public street in a hospital gown and not look suspicious? I had nowhere to go, either. The more I thought about it, the more I realized I had no choice but to stay there.

The hallway was quiet outside of my door. I walked over to it and peeked outside. No one was standing watch. No nurses were about because they were doing their rounds in the other halls. I jumped when I heard some groans from another room. I guess some of my hospital neighbors were in pain. I walked back into my room and sat down on the bed.

"Hey," a voice said from the doorway.

Maria had suddenly appeared, watching me. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised an eyebrow.

"Why are you suddenly up and about?" she asked.

"Why wouldn't I be?" I shrugged hopelessly.

"True. One of the nurses told me you asked to have your IV's taken off. What, are you hoping to die on me?"

"No, I made it this far. I'm not going to let the bastard win. I just . . . didn't want to feel trapped here anymore."

"Oh, so you're making a run for it?"

"I thought about it, but I have nowhere to go."

She sighed. "You're just shit out of luck, huh?"

"I guess so. Especially when I have a psycho trying to get me."

"I don't think he's trying to get you. He was right here in the room. Why didn't he kill you then?"

I shook my head. "Hell if I know." Suddenly, I thought about it. Those chains, down in that fucking cell. I couldn't get out of them no matter how hard I tried . . . "Maria, how did you guys get me out of that room? No one ever explained it to me."

"We found a key in the bathtub beside you. Come to think of it, we were wondering why you never thought to look there when it was right within your reach."

"I looked _everywhere_ I could reach. I looked in Zep's pockets after I . . ." I stopped. God, it was hard to say what I did.

She looked at me. "So, did you check the tub?"

"Yes, I know I did. I kept blacking out a lot when I was down there, though, so maybe I didn't . . . I don't know."

Maria began pacing the room with a stressed look. "But if you did check, how did it end up there?"

I didn't answer. I figured she was just thinking out loud. That and I had no freaking clue how it got there . . .

"Do you remember the door opening at all? Before you blacked out or did you hear anything?"

I shrugged. "That's the problem with blacking out. You don't remember much. But, I do remember the door opening once . . ."

"What happened?"

"Well, it sounded like someone tore it down more so than opened it."

She smiled slightly. "That was Fetch and Rickers when we were down there. But that was the only thing you remember? Think hard."

I shook my head. "There's nothing else I remember."

"Damn it. I just keep thinking that . . ."

"What?"

"Never mind. I'm just thinking randomly here. This guy is so confusing." She stopped moving around and focused on me. "Why were you getting ready to leave?"

I glanced away. "I was kind of wondering what they did with Lawrence?"

She looked surprised. "They were going to bury him last I heard. I don't know if there's going to be a proper funeral or just a family thing."

"Is there any way . . . I don't know, I could go see him? His grave, at least."

"Um, yeah. I'll figure out what I can and we can get you to see him."

"Thanks, really."

She nodded. I glanced at the door.

"So, where's my room guard or whatever the hell you would call him?" I asked, trying to aim away from Lawrence and Jigsaw. I had enough bad thoughts for the night.

"Oh, he's probably getting his ass chewed by our commissioner for falling asleep on the job," she explained simply.

She walked to the window across the room and looked out. There was a dull orange streetlight outside of the window and the street was filled with headlights one way and brake lights another. My room was never dark and that helped a little.

We were quiet for a while. She stared intently through the window and I just sort of watched her. I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't help myself.

"How did you get mixed up with all of this?" I asked, even after thinking I had enough of Jigsaw for the night. God, I was a hypocrite.

"I'm not technically in charge of the case," she said, still watching out of the window. "It's kind of . . . personal."

"Why?" I was pushing into dangerous territory. I cursed myself in my head and sighed. "Forget it. I'm sorry. You don't have to explain your life story to me."

She shook her head and finally turned to look at me. "I'll cut you a deal. I'll tell you my life story after we catch this guy."

I stared dumbly at her. What kind of a deal was that? I didn't want to sound offensive to her homicide unit or whatever, but Jigsaw was just trotting around like he fucking owned the place. He had no slip-ups. I learned that from the stories Lawrence told me . . . This guy was going to stop until he was dead. She had to be kidding.

But her eyes drilled into mine, fearless and determined. Wow, I never saw anyone so focused. She knew what she wanted and she would get it someday. She wanted Jigsaw. And no matter what I (or anyone else) said, she wasn't going to stop trying.

"Okay," I said quietly. "You tell me your life story when you catch Jigsaw."

The next afternoon, she came back. The flowers were out of my room and taken for evidence or whatever. She had a weak smile on her face. I sat up and tried to smile back.

"Good news," she said. "Well, sort of. It's good, but in a bad way. Lawrence's funeral service is this afternoon. The department decided that there was no evidence with his body, since technically Jigsaw never touched him. They're going to let him rest now. I poked and prodded all morning and the commissioner gave us permission to take you to the service. Rickers and I are going to take you."

I nodded. "Thanks a lot, Maria. You have no idea . . ."

"Go ahead and get washed up, then. You've been in that bed for a while."

"I don't have any clothes. Except the ones I had on when you found me."

She suddenly tossed me a bundle she had behind her back. "Courtesy of Kathy, your night nurse. I think she has a crush on you. Clean up best you can and I'll see you in a while."

I did as she said and went to my bathroom. The nurses left me shampoo and some shaving utensils. Kathy really must have had a crush on me. I washed my hair in the sink and then washed my hands, arms, and face. I shaved carefully and changed in a decent-looking suit. It was a little baggy because I had lost a lot of weight, but it seemed to fit all right otherwise.

I stepped out of my room to see Maria talking quietly with Rickers. They looked at me and nodded.

"You ready to go, kid?" Rickers asked.

I nodded and followed them silently. The car was quiet for the whole drive to the church. I inhaled heavily, mentally preparing myself . . .


	6. The Funeral

Chapter Six: The Funeral

A/N: All right, guys, coming up is one of my favorite chapters! It reflects a lot on Maria's and Adam's childhoods, since no one really knows about them. Hope you guys like it as much as I do! Another note, the POV switches are over the same time, just in case anyone gets confused. Like I said, there's overlapping.

**Maria's POV**

Adam didn't say a word the whole way to the church. Of course, I didn't hold it against him. Lawrence had become his friend throughout the whole ordeal in that bathroom. They were connected and he looked pained as Rickers parked the car.

We went in and sat in the back. There was a decent-sized group at the service. His wife and little girl sat in the front with some other family members. I watched the little girl and felt a hard pang of sadness grip my heart. She looked so confused up there, like she didn't understand that her daddy was dead. He wouldn't be there to tuck her in, read her a story, or check for monsters under her bed . . .

I shook my head forcefully. My memories were crossing with the present. I had to focus. Rickers kept looking at me with sad eyes. He knew what was going through my head. I attempted to give him a reassuring smile, but my lips wouldn't do it.

I looked at Adam. He had his eyes down at his feet the whole time. It looked like he was trying to keep from crying. Poor guy. I wondered what was going through his head.

We drove out to the cemetery after the service. Rickers and I stayed back while Adam walked up to put his hand on the casket. Rickers wrapped his arm around my shoulders and gave me a loving squeeze.

"You doing okay, Midge?" he asked.

"I haven't heard that nickname for years," I said. "You're growing soft on me, Rickers."

"Well, I helped your dad raise you. I can be a softie sometimes, you know. Were you thinking about him?"

"Yeah. That little girl reminded me so much of how I felt at Dad's service."

"You were only seven, Midge. You didn't understand it all yet."

I nodded and watched Adam. He had turned to talk to Ali, Lawrence's wife. She hugged him and patted his shoulder. He crouched down to Diana's height and smiled at her. He said a few words and handed her a yellow dandelion. I wondered where he had found it. Oh, well, it was a sweet gesture. Then, I found myself wondering what was going through his head . . .

**Adam's POV** **(Same Time)**

I patted the casket and sniffed.

"I'm sorry, Lawrence," I said to it. "I really wish it was you here instead of me."

I turned away with a sort of surreal feeling. It was almost like he wasn't in that casket. It felt like it was a cruel prank and Lawrence would trot and yell, "Gotcha!" Then everyone would laugh and hug him, glad to see he was okay. I scanned the crowd, half-hoping my screwed up theory was right. Lawrence never ran out.

I walked away and stopped to pick a yellow dandelion. Everyone said they were just weeds, but I remembered running around and picking a dozen for my mom. She always put them in a glass vase on the kitchen table. Dad would come home and ask where they came from. Mom was always so proud to tell him that I got them for her. The old man would always glare at me like I wasn't his. I was eight then, I think. That was when I started to realize my dad hated me . . .

Diana and Ali were getting hugs and condolences from other guests. Diana was clutching a stuffed animal, tears falling, but not making a sound. I walked over after a group left them alone.

"Um, hi, Ali," I muttered, already feeling my eyes well up. "My name's Adam. I, uh, I was with Lawrence . . ."

"You were the one in the room," she sounded so calm. "I had to tell Lawrence that you were a liar."

I looked away. "I was down there, but I'm trying to fix it now. I'm so sorry. He should still be alive, not me."

She shook her head. "You can't blame yourself, Adam. You had no part in this. Just know that I don't blame you, okay?"

I nodded. "I just wish I could just take it all back, you know? Lawrence . . . may have done some bad things, but . . . he was a good man."

"He was."

"I'm so sorry. I don't know what else to say."

She hugged me close to her. "Just promise you'll try to make a better life for yourself. Don't let Lawrence die for the wrong reasons."

_He didn't need to die in the first place,_ I thought. She patted my shoulder gently. I crouched down to be eye-level with Diana. She looked at me with eyes that reminded me of Lawrence.

"Hi, Diana," I said, smiling at her.

"Hi," she answered in a soft voice.

"I was a friend of your dad's. He showed me a picture of you. He was proud of you."

She nodded, squeezing her stuffed animal to herself. I offered the dandelion.

"You know, dandelions were always my favorite," I said as she took it. "Some people say they aren't flowers, but I still love 'em all the same. What about you?"

"I pick them for Dad," she said.

"And I bet he loved them just as much as you do. Maybe you can keep picking them for him and bring him here for him. I think he would really like that."

"Okay. Thank you."

"You're welcome, Diana. Be good for your mom, okay?"

She nodded and smelled the dandelion. I straightened up and smiled weakly at Ali. She smiled back and mouthed, _Thank you_. I nodded before starting toward Maria and Rickers.

I stopped short when I saw him. It was a tired-looking old man with a wrinkled face. God, he looked familiar. He coughed before he walked up and placed a hand on the casket. He nodded to Ali and Diana, but didn't stop to talk to them. His eyes met mine and a shiver ran down my back. The hairs on my neck stood on end. He moved away slowly, but his eyes stayed on me.

"Still alive," a deep voice met my ears. It was the same on the tape recorder. I thought it was just in my head, but I noticed a thin smile spreading across his face. That was the last thing I remembered.

**Maria's POV (Same Time)**

"Looks like he'd be good with kids," Rickers joked as we watched Adam stand up.

I smiled. He seemed like it. He started to walk toward us, then froze in his tracks. I followed his gaze. He was staring at . . . the old man at the hospital? What was he doing there? He didn't say a word to Adam, just patted the casket and started to walk away. But Adam wouldn't look away from him . . .

"Do you see this?" I asked, gesturing toward Adam. "Look at his face."

"Someone he knows?" Rickers suggested.

"I saw that guy at the hospital yesterday. What's he doing here?"

"Maybe he was a patient of Dr. Gordon's. Some of them are here to pay their respects."

I squinted at the guy. He said something and smiled. Then Adam dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. I gasped and ran to him, Rickers at my side. He patted Adam's cheek and said his name.

"I think he just fainted," Rickers said to the concerned crowd. "He'll be okay. Just give him some breathing room."

I looked up from Adam and through the crowd. The man was gone.

A/N: Bum, bum, bum! Lol. That was supposed to sound like evil music, but I don't know if that worked out so well. Anyway, I seriously love this chapter, so let me know what all of you think of it. Later, everybody!


	7. He was There

Chapter Seven: "He was There"

**Adam's POV**

I inhaled heavily and shot up. I gulped in air, as much as I could. I looked around the room. It was dark, but I wasn't in a bathtub. Jesus, I was so afraid of water now. I pulled blankets away from me and sat up. I wasn't in a hospital, that was for sure. I was in a small bedroom with wood paneling on the walls and a double bed taking up most of the room.

I stood up and walked out of the door. I stopped in the short hallway, hearing voices in the other room. I recognized them as Rickers and Maria. I listened intently. Hell, I was once paid to spy on people. Old habits were hard to break.

"But there had to have been some connection," Maria sounded frustrated as she spoke.

"We've had no leads since we found Adam, Maria," Rickers answered a lot calmer. "Even though he's safe, Adam really has nothing that can help us. We took his statement, wrote down every word he said . . . Everything he told us we went on and found nothing."

"There has to be something. He said he blacked out occasionally. Maybe he forgot some things."

"I know you're hoping this guy will be able to tell us exactly where Jigsaw is staying, but it's not that simple. Adam never saw the guy who did this to him. He thought it was that Zep guy, but he ended up having a tape, too. The dead guy in the center of the room _got up_ and walked away, covered in blood. He never really got a clear view."

"But he heard his voice . . ."

"So have we, in all of the tapes. There's nothing there, Midge."

"I just don't get it. How can Adam still be alive? I mean, Jigsaw wanted him dead one way or another. We can tell by the tapes. It was either Lawrence killed him or he was left in the room to die a lot slower."

Rickers sighed heavily. It seemed like his patience was fading. "We already know that . . ."

"I know, I know. But we get an anonymous call that tells us exactly where the house is. The caller said to 'look high and low.' I swear to you, Rickers, we never would've been able to find that trap door in the floor if the caller didn't tell us that."

"So, what are you implying?"

"Do you think Jigsaw . . . made that call?"

"_What?_"

"Maybe he called the department to make sure Adam was found. Maybe . . . he wanted Adam to stay alive after all."

"Are you kidding me with this?"

"I don't know anymore. I know it sounds crazy, but think about it. We get a strange call with the exact address and a hint that led us to the trap door to the room under the house. When we find Adam, we find a key just casually sitting less than an arm's length away from him."

"So, you mean to tell me that . . ."

"Jigsaw thought Adam had enough in him to live."

"Just like Amanda."

"Just like Amanda. Please tell me I'm not insane with this, Rickers."

"I don't know. Why would he let Adam live, but then torment him with notes and flowers?"

"It sounds messed up, but . . . I think he was congratulating him for winning the game."

"But, Maria . . . he mentioned you in the note. Why would he threaten you if he was just 'congratulating' Adam?"

"I think . . . he wants me to be next."

I stopped breathing momentarily. Maria was the next victim on his list? What the hell for? She was a young cop and she didn't seem dirty at all. I mean, it looked like she didn't do drugs or anything like that . . . What had she done with her life that was so bad?

Rickers voiced my thoughts. "What the hell for? Maria, I raised you. I can't think of a single thing you did wrong . . ."

"That's because I never told anyone about it," she said quietly. "Adam, you might as well come out. You've been there for at least five minutes."

I stepped into the dining room. Rickers turned to look at me with raised eyebrows.

"I didn't even know you were there," he said.

Both of us looked at Maria, who shrugged.

"I've known this house since I could crawl," she said as if it was simple. "I know when anything's out of place. Are you okay, Adam? I guess you were too weak to handle the funeral. I'm sorry about that."

"I wasn't too weak," I answered defensively. "I . . . saw something. Or at least, thought I did."

The two of them looked at me expectantly.

"I think, I know . . . I saw Jigsaw."

"_What!_" the two exclaimed in unison.

Rickers shot up from his chair with alarming speed and Maria was at my side in a second.

"Who was it?" she demanded, grabbing my shoulders.

I felt her nails dig into my skin. I winced inwardly as my bullet wound throbbed under her palm.

"It was the old man," I managed, gritting my teeth. "I saw him right before I passed out. He touched Lawrence's casket and then looked at me. He just said, 'Still alive.' Then I woke up here."

"Oh, my God, it was the man from the hospital," Maria gasped, releasing her death grip on me. "Rickers, we have to get the hospital records. Find out who was in the same wing as Adam the night of the flower delivery. He was there. Right _fucking_ there."

Rickers stopped her charge to the door. "No, you're going to stay here with Adam. I'm going to call the department and have someone come over and keep watch on your house. If he was that close to both of you, he'll probably be able to find your house easier than you think. We have to keep both of you under watch."

"I'm going with you," she said, shaking violently.

"I put my foot down here, Maria. This isn't your case anymore, not if you're a potential target. I'll call you as soon as I figure out the hospital records."

We watched him leave. Maria punched the tabletop as hard as she could. It shook the windows beside the table. She dropped to a chair and clutched her forehead in her hands.

"We had him, damn it!" she exclaimed. "We _had _him!"

"You didn't know who he was, Maria," I attempted, feeling numbness take over my brain.

"I saw him! I fucking _talked_ to him, Adam! God, I should've felt it or something. Damn it!"

She pounded the table again. This woman scared the hell out of me when she was angry. I sat down beside her and took her hand, careful of the already bruising knuckles. Tears were running down her cheeks and she roughly wiped them away with her free hand.

"Seeing how we're now under house arrest and can't leave," I said, "I think we have enough time to sit and talk."

"There's nothing to tell," Maria answered, her voice shaking as much as her body was.

"You're a bad liar."

She sniffed and smiled weakly.

"C'mon, Maria. What could possibly make you just as messed up as me?"

Her green eyes focused intently on mine. They have that same shadow of determination and now, stubborn pride. She hated to seem weak. Just like me . . .

"You said I'll know your life story when we caught the guy," I said. "Well, I think we're forty percent there."

She sighed heavily and pulled her hand out of mine. "I'm going to wrap my knuckles and get a strong-ass drink. Then, we'll talk. You taking one, too?"

I nodded. She stood up and I watched her walk into the kitchen.

A/N: Whoo! I think I scared myself writing this chapter! I'll update as soon as I can. I think it's getting good!


	8. Maria's Story

Chapter Eight: Maria's Story

**Maria's POV**

I used a med kit I kept in the kitchen to wrap my knuckles. That temper was definitely inherited from my father. It almost always led to injury, mostly to myself. I dug through the refrigerator and found two beers. I offered one to Adam and took a drink of my own.

"Wow, I'm surprised you have the heavy stuff," he joked as he examined the label.

"What, do you think all women drink light beer?" I asked. "My dad always said, 'Light beer is for pansies.' And I followed all of his advice."

"Your dad sounds like a tough guy."

I looked at the dark wood of the table. "But he was still my dad. He seemed like such a dickhead, but he was the sweetest guy I knew."

Adam took a drink and looked at me. "How about you start at the beginning? What about your mom?"

I shrugged. "Couldn't tell you. She went off when I was one. I can't remember anything about her. Dad said she was young, though, too young to even dream of being a parent. He told me she was only 16. He was six years older than her. So, when she found out she was pregnant, he promised to take the kid and not hold it against her if she left. She did just that.

"Only problem was, I don't think Dad was ready to be a parent, either. We lived here with my grandparents because he didn't even know how to change a diaper properly." I laughed weakly.

"He told me a story about when I was a baby. My grandparents went to bed early and left him to take care of me. He gave me a full bottle of milk and fell asleep while he was feeding me. He said he woke up and saw that I drank the whole damn thing. He burped me and I threw up all over him and the lounge chair we were sitting in. Grandpa ended up throwing the chair out."

I laughed, but it came out as a sob. I held back my tears stubbornly.

"Grandpa and Grandma passed away before I turned 11. They were both pretty heavy smokers, so it didn't surprise us that they died so young. So, it was down to me and Dad. I did everything with him and his friends from work. I even played with them on poker nights. I always cheated and all of the guys knew it, but they let me win a few times. Dad and Rickers grew up together and were best friends through high school, so he ended up becoming my godfather. But I never called him by his first name because Dad only called him Rickers, so I did, too."

I took another drink and sighed. "I think I was nine when I told Dad I was going to be a cop, just like him. He said no right away, saying that pretty little things like me weren't fit to see what he did everyday. I cried for days when I found a dead stray kitten out on the side of the road, so he knew I could never handle seeing a dead person. 'You have too much of your mom's sensitivity,' he told me. But, unfortunately, I inherited his stubbornness."

Adam grinned at that and shook his head. "It's hard to believe you're a homicide cop."

I raised an eyebrow at him. "Why?"

"You looked more concerned about me being okay than Jigsaw the night I got that note."

"Come on, Adam, cops aren't that heartless. I would rather see you alive, if that isn't too hard for you."

He smirked. "Were you worried about me?"

"Of course. You're my witness."

He still looked at me questioningly. I took a big draft of beer and swallowed. I was lying horribly then. I was worried about my witness, yes, but it went deeper than that. I suddenly couldn't picture my life without Adam. He just seemed to fit in it. Even in this house, he looked like he was meant to be there. God, I never thought that way before. What the hell was happening?

"You okay?" he asked.

I was staring at him like a moron. I shook my head and took another drink. My beer was empty. I got up and grabbed another one. I sat down again and sighed.

"What happened to your dad?" he said quietly.

"No one was really sure," I answered honestly. "He was working with Rickers on an undercover case. They were trying to break open a murder case by catching some drug dealers they suspected. The other guys assumed it was just a bust gone bad, but Rickers was never the same again. They never told me what happened. Of course, I was only 16. I went to live with Rickers, but they made sure no one took this house.

"As soon as I graduated high school, I went to college and then the Academy. After I joined the force in the city, I moved in here to live by myself. Rickers tried to stop me from being a cop, probably because my dad wanted to make sure I stayed safe, but I joined up anyway. I wanted to be like him."

"So, you have no more family?"

I shook my head. "Unless you count Rickers. He might be the only one."

Adam nodded sympathetically. "How did you get mixed in with Jigsaw?"

I looked out of the bay window beside the table. "One of the first cases was my mother."

His mouth dropped open. "But . . . I thought Amanda was the only woman."

"The department wouldn't let it leak through the press. At least, I asked them not to. Her body was charred, but they managed to find out who she was. She kept Dad's last name, Cassidy. Teresa Cassidy was her name."

"What did he do to her?"

I focused on the label of the beer bottle. "She was locked in a room with a door that had a timer. The detectives that analyzed the scene said it looked like she somehow triggered a trap door. There was a tape, just like always."

"What did the tape say?"

I closed my eyes, remembering the exact words. "_Hello, Teresa. I think it's time you paid your dues. You have spent your life expecting others to pick up after you. There is a trail of destruction behind you. So, what will happen, I wonder, when you are forced to stay with what you've ruined? Be careful, don't trip up. Or you'll never see that door open._"

I shivered and opened my eyes again. "The room was like a whole living room. There were two couches; a TV, a table . . . She ripped the whole thing apart, trying to find a key or another way out. All of that stuff was connected with wires and cables to the floor. The whole floor dropped and she went with it. She landed in a bunch of rubble that was still on fire."

"She burned to death?"

I nodded. "They said that if she wouldn't have panicked and just waited, the door would have opened for her. She died because she tore that room apart. He was right; she died with the destruction she caused. Ironic, but she would've made it out if she just waited."

I started to cry, but I was determined to finish. "After that, I joined the detectives that were working on catching Jigsaw. I had a feeling that I had to get whoever did it to her. She may not have stayed to be my mom, but she still my mother. I know that probably doesn't make sense, but . . ." I stopped, finally letting the tears fall.

Adam took my hand and squeezed it. "It's okay, Maria. You just want to help your mother. And if it hadn't been for you and Rickers, I would be dead down there."

"No," I shook my head, sniffing loudly. "There's more to it than that. If you hadn't gotten mixed up with me, he wouldn't be after you again."

"What did you do that was so wrong?"

I waited for a time, trying to regain my composure. I sighed heavily. "I . . . wasn't really happy in high school. When Dad died, I just kind of gave up. I spent my life wishing I was dead, just so I could see him again. Then, I took a bunch of antidepressants and laid down in bed. I was half-dead when Rickers found me and rushed me to the hospital. They pumped my stomach and I managed to come out of it. I was still alive."

Adam looked at me with sad eyes. I had a feeling he knew what I felt.

I kept going. "I think Jigsaw knows about it. He thinks I still don't appreciate my life. He wants to test me."

Adam stood up and came over to hug me. It was comforting, but I couldn't stop crying. I know what I did and now, Jigsaw did, too. He was waiting to make me pay for it.

A/N: There you have it, Maria's background. Sorry if her mother's killing was lame. I couldn't think of anything mind blowing. I've always been freaked out about burning to death, so I figured that would be a pretty terrible way. And I know I'm predictable. Maria and Adam are starting to like each other, but don't worry. I'll keep it interesting! I'm glad a lot of you like it.


	9. Phone Calls

Chapter Nine: Phone Calls

**Adam's POV**

We sat like that for a while, me holding Maria while she cried over everything she had lost. I was amazed to see a woman like her just break down like that. All the same, it was understandable. She went through hell and back again, so she deserved some tears. I coaxed her to move to the couch in the living room.

She buried her face in my chest, still sniffing. I wrapped my arms around her and felt strands of her hair with my fingers. She finally composed herself, straightening. I kept my arm around her, pulling her close to me. Her eyes were swollen and red; my shirt was stained with her tears.

"No one else hears about this," she said.

"Of course not," I answered, smiling somewhat.

"I'll never hear the end of it otherwise." She rested her head against my chest and sighed.

I tilted my head down into her dark hair and kissed the top of her head quickly. She soon dozed off, her breathing slowing to a steady pace. I really never thought this would happen. It felt nice having her that close . . .

I guess I dozed off, too, because I was rudely awakened with an annoying phone ringing. I thought I was dreaming it, but I soon heard Maria groan and slip out from under my arm. Her bare feet pad across the linoleum floor of the dining room to reach the phone.

"Hello?" she asked, her voice scratchy. "Yeah, it's me. Did you find anything on him? Oh, okay. Try checking ICU patients or even emergency. He looked really worn out. Of course it was the same guy, Rickers. I know it. All right, call as soon as you have any leads."

She hung up and walked back to the couch. I opened my eyes and grinned at her.

"Your voice is nice to wake up to," I said. I knew what the phone call was about. They had nothing on the old man yet. I didn't want her to start worrying, so I figured I could distract from it. It had already been a rough night, so neither of us wanted anymore stress.

She laughed and sat down beside me.

"Shut up."

"What? I'm just telling the truth."

We stayed quiet for a while. I instinctively took her hand. She laced her fingers with mine, a small smile forming on her face. I smiled back, not really knowing what to do next.

"I never told anyone else all of that," she said softly, looking at our hands. "He always thought I just accidentally overdosed with the medicine. He wanted to believe that."

"He loves you," I answered. "He just didn't want to think you didn't love yourself as much as he did."

She looked up at me. "Did you just say that?"

I couldn't help laughing. "I guess I did."

We laughed together for a little bit. I was seriously debating about leaning in to kiss her . . . when the phone started ringing again. I cursed inwardly as she stood up to answer it. I felt like running my head through a wall. I should've kissed, damn it! She was hinting for it and I just stared like a frickin' idiot!

"Adam," Maria said from the dining room.

I turned and saw she turned pale. I got up and held her up, so she wouldn't sink to the ground. She just held out the receiver. I slowly took it. Maria shook her head and walked away quickly. I held the receiver to my ear and listened for a moment. That eerie, mechanical clown laugh I had heard I my apartment vibrated in my eardrums.

"Hello, Adam," Jigsaw said calmly. He sounded like he was about to laugh.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded, but I already knew the answer.

He really did laugh at that. "Oh, Adam, of course you know who I am. You hear me, you see me every time you fall asleep. I can hear it in your voice."

"You mother—"

"Such cruel names aren't needed for right now. First, we have some matters to discuss."

"What the fuck do you want?"

"I noticed your sympathy for little Diana at Lawrence's funeral. It was quite touching, really. Poor little girl lost her father . . ."

"Because of you!"

"On the contrary, Adam, it was because of _you_. If Lawrence would've just killed you, he would still be alive, but I guess he just didn't appreciate it enough, did he? He wasn't willing to fight for his life. He just gave up."

"You twisted son of a bitch! It's your fault he's dead! You tried to have his family killed!"

"That was because he didn't love them, Adam. Couldn't you tell?"

"No, Lawrence loved his family, even if he stumbled a little. He was trying to make his life better . . ."

"Is that what you're trying to do now? Is beautiful Maria going to help you better your life? She doesn't appreciate what she has, either. Even after seeing her entire family die, she thinks about how death will make everything better. Do you believe that, Adam? Is death the only way out?"

"No."

"Now, that is an interesting answer. I seem to remember you practically begging me to kill you in that room. You had lost all hope . . ."

"Then why didn't you kill me?"

"I have one more thing to do with you, Adam. I want to see something else. Meet me when you find you're missing something. Follow your heart." There was the dry chuckle and a click.

I held on to the receiver for a long while, shaking all over. Soft hands took it away from my grasp and replaced it on the wall console. Maria hugged me to try to stop it. I couldn't stop my body and now tears were starting to well up.

"Jesus," I managed.

"It's okay, Adam," she said softly. "We'll be okay."

I shook my head. "No."

"Adam, we have a trace."

"What?"

She let go of me and touched my cheek quickly. A weak smile was on her face. "I called the department and they activated the scanner to find where the call was coming from."

I looked at her. "How?"

"I became kind of paranoid after I joined the Jigsaw cases. I actually had Rickers help me install a direct wire-tap to the department, in case of any unusual phone calls. I called them with my cell phone while he was talking to you. Adam, we know where he is."

I smiled back at her. Well, that was definitely a plus. The only problem was, I couldn't shake what Jigsaw said. _"Meet me when you find you're missing something."_ I had nothing to account for. Except . . . Maria. She was the only person I had now on this earth. Was he really going to take her?

I hugged her, wrapping my arms around her tightly. I was afraid to let her go.


	10. Back to Work

Chapter Ten: Back to Work

**Maria's POV**

Adam was too shaken to sleep during the night. He wouldn't tell me what Jigsaw said. He finally fell asleep when the sun was coming up. I called Rickers as soon as he did and told him to pick me up. I couldn't sleep, either, so I figured I might as well be on the case.

Rickers came to the door after talking to the car that was stationed outside of my house. I gestured to Adam, who was asleep on the couch. The two of us stayed quiet until we were outside.

"You're not coming along," he said in a stern voice. "Not when you could be in danger."

"Rickers, every one of our cases has put me in danger," I argued.

"This is different, Maria. He's after you. You'd be safer here."

I knew that. Hell, I'd be safer in another state, but I had to do this. I had to find him and beat him at his own game. I was sure it was what my dad would've done. That, and I didn't think I could handle another night alone with Adam. I already told him too much. I had to keep it professional.

I shook my head stubbornly. "I'd rather risk it out here than be trapped in my own damn house. Adam will probably sleep for most of the day, but the car can stay out here in case something happens. Did you ever get anything on the records?"

Rickers shrugged as we walked to his car. "Nothing suspicious. One guy had a car accident, one was in for surgery, one had a serious case of pneumonia, one had a chemo treatment . . . There was a lot of people there."

"Well, it's a hospital. I'd assume so. Let's go look again, in case you overlooked something."

"All of them were moved to the department. We can see how the others are doing."

"Others?"

"Like I said, there were a lot of records. We took all of the records within the week of Adam arriving there. Some of the other guys at the department are helping."

He drove to the station and went in. Fetch was among the officers that were reading through reports. He looked tired, maybe even sick. Dark circles were under his eyes and he seemed pale. Rickers must've noticed, too, because he whistled softly when he walked in.

"Jesus, Fetch, you look terrible," he said. "You okay?"

"I'll make it," he answered weakly.

"Just don't spread it to anyone else. Did anyone find anything interesting?"

Everyone shook their heads sadly. We were so close. I knew something was being overlooked . . . I suddenly remembered the funeral.

"Rickers, have you looked for anyone that was a patient of Dr. Gordon's?" I asked.

"No, I forgot to clarify that," he sighed. "Shit. All right, everyone. We go through all files that say they were treated by Dr. Lawrence Gordon some point in time."

A lot of them groaned, but they gathered all of the files they had read through and started again. Rickers sighed and sat down beside Fetch. He took some files and began flipping through.

"You gonna help out, kid?" he asked me.

"I'm going to go check on something else," I answered. "I'll see you in a while. I'll bring some coffee if you need it."

I walked off toward the commissioner's office. I had to check my trace as soon as possible. I kept it from Rickers because I knew he would get too excited and jump the gun. I didn't even tell the dispatcher that started the trace. I just told her to hold on to the location and tell no one else about it. I hoped she kept her word.

I knocked on Mick's door and waited to hear his gruff voice answer. He seemed agitated, which was definitely never a good sign. He looked like he was ready to rip someone's head off if something didn't go the way he wanted. I sat down in front of his desk and tried to smile at him.

"What the hell do you have to grin at?" he snapped. "From what Rickers told me, you should still be at home. What happened to our witness?"

"He's fine," I answered, irritated at his mood. "He's under surveillance at my house. Don't worry about him. I have to talk to Katherine for a few minutes."

"Why?"

"She was on dispatch yesterday and I just needed to talk to her."

"She's not in until night shift. What's up, Cassidy?"

I cursed to myself. "It's nothing. What time is she supposed to be in?"

"Well, Harper's covering the radio for now. He should be done at around eight."

"All right, thanks."

I stood up to leave.

"Maria, hold on."

I stopped and turned to look at Mick. His eyebrows were raised questioningly.

"You would tell me if you thought you had something, wouldn't you? Please tell me you're not dumb enough to go try and get this guy on your own."

"Of course not," I lied.

"Just . . . make sure Rickers sticks around with you, all right? He can help if anything gets messy."

"What's the matter, Mick? You don't trust me?"

"I trust you won't do anything idiotic, Maria. Even if it's personal, I'd rather not see you dead."

"Point well taken. Thanks."

I walked out and went to the radio room where Harper was talking momentarily before taking notes on a pad. I tapped his shoulder. He turned and smiled at me.

"Hey, did Katherine leave anything here for me last night?" I asked.

"Oh, uh . . ." he stopped, thinking. "Let me check."

He rolled his chair over to the desk across the room, muttering to himself.

"Cassidy, Cassidy . . . Oh, here we go! It says, 'Location found.'"

"That's what I'm after."

He handed me the slip of paper with Katherine's curvy writing on it.

"Thanks a lot, Harp."

I walked away, trying to hold back my excitement. I had him! All I had to do was find that address and check it out. I decided to go alone. I wasn't going to raid the house or anything, just check it out for anything suspicious and then leave. Just a routine check . . .

I slipped past the room where they were checking the records. I went down to the car lot and cleared a car for me to use. I then walked out and was about to get in when something cold and rigid prodded into my back.

"All right, turn around and your guts will be all over this parking lot."

A/N: I know, it's another cliff-hanger, sorry. Trust me, though it's worth it! I'm glad all of you like it, though. I'll update as soon as I can. See ya, everyone!


	11. Three's Company

Chapter Eleven: Three's Company

**Maria's POV**

"Give me the keys," the gunman demanded.

Now, trust me, the movies are nothing like real life. The movie character would've elbowed him in the ribs and karate chopped the gun from his hand and turned it against him. The real character, me, was frozen with fear. I nearly dropped the keys as I held them out behind me.

I was shoved against the car and pinned there. He coughed forcefully and then twisted my arm.

"Get in the back. Try anything and I'll shoot you on the run. Get in."

I opened the door and slipped in the back seat. The gunman got in the driver's seat. I gawked at him. He didn't even try to hide his face . . .

"Fetch?" I finally managed.

He looked even paler as he drove out of the lot and off into the streets.

"Surprised?" he asked casually.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

"What I was told."

"By who?"

"Shut up."

We drove in silence for a while. I was still in shock. Okay, I might have expected a crazed convict or a serial killer, but _Fetch?_ We worked together. We were friends . . . Well, most of the time.

"What are you doing, Fetch?" I asked, my voice shaking.

"The same thing you would do if he made you," he muttered before coughing heavily again.

"Who?"

He held out his hand and I noticed speckles of blood covering it. He wiped it on his jacket, shaking his head.

"Come on, Maria, you're not that stupid."

"Jigsaw?"

He nodded.

"Why? What did he do?"

"I said, 'Shut up.'"

I went quiet again, tears suddenly coming to my eyes. I knew it was too good to be true. He wanted me to find him. He probably even knew about the fucking wire tap on my house phone. He knew every move I had thought of and he beat me to the punch. Bastard.

"He poison you or something?" I asked. "You had so long to get me to him and then you'd get the antidote?"

Fetch grinned weakly. "Still speedy as ever, Maria. Good job. The tape said all I had to do was get you to a certain address and tell no one else about it. Then I'll go on my way."

"With a guilty conscience, I hope."

"I'd rather have that than be dead, sorry."

"Do you think he just wants to have a nice chat with me? He wants to kill me, Fetch. Do you realize that? You'll help him in it."

He shook his head. "As long as I get that antidote, I didn't see anything."

"You son of a bitch. I wouldn't just drop you off to be killed!"

"Think about it, Maria. If you were in my shoes, would you spare me and die for it? Are you willing to sacrifice your life when you know the person you're trying to help will just be killed eventually?"

I immediately thought of Adam. "I'd rather die than know I helped to kill another."

"Yeah, right. You would give that person up faster than they could blink."

"You don't even know me!"

"I've worked with you, Maria. Of course I know you. But, sadly, you don't know me as well as you thought."

He laughed, but it sounded like he was going to cry. He did feel guilty, but I refused to pity him. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my cell phone. I was about to hit the speed dial for Rickers when I heard the gun being cocked.

"I don't think that's a smart idea," Fetch said, the gun aimed at me while he still drove on. "Put it down."

I put it back in my pocket, cursing silently. He drove a couple more minutes and then pulled over in a dark alleyway. He got out first and opened my door. He wrenched me out and pulled into a side-door of a building. I stumbled in the darkness as he pulled me down hallways.

"I got her!" he called out.

We finally entered a dimly lit room and I was forced down into a metal chair, the gun still at my head. Crude drawings and various devices were spread about the room. I knew I was now in the belly of the beast.

We waited for a time and then a black-robed man came slowly in. A deep chuckle came from under the red-lined hood. He stopped and seemed to stare at me momentarily before turning to Fetch.

"Well done," he said.

He tossed a needle to him. Fetch caught it and nodded thankfully.

"You've done your deed. I'll allow you to live. Leave here and mention to no one what you've seen."

Fetch smirked at me, then left through the way we came. Son of a bitch . . . The hooded man came to me and took my cell phone from my pocket.

"Do call Adam and tell him of the address you found. Three's company, you know."

My hands shook violently as I found my house number and waited for it to ring.

A/N: I'm really sorry it took so long. I haven't had access to a computer forever. And I know, it's short. Don't hurt me! I'll update as soon as I can. Don't worry, I won't let cha down! And I know, the chapter title's corny. I tried, but nothing really inspiring came. Well, I better start working on the next chapter, see ya!


	12. Hello Again

Chapter Twelve: Hello Again

**Adam's POV**

I woke up in the middle of the afternoon. I guess emotional all-nighters really take it out of you. I went to the bathroom and then wandered around, looking casually around the house.

I didn't dare go into Maria's bedroom, though. From what I gathered, you never set foot in a woman's room. That is, until they invite you. I shook my head with a grin; I was being ridiculous. I walked through the living room and stopped to examine some pictures. There were dozens of them around. Maria's family may have been small, but they took "Kodak moment" to a new level.

I picked up on from the TV set and looked at it. A little girl was sitting on the shoulders of a worn, but happy-looking man. It was Maria and her father. They looked alike in some ways, especially the eyes. I was putting it back when the phone started to ring.

I decided not to answer it. It wasn't my house. The answering machine picked up and there was a deep sigh before I heard Maria's voice.

"Adam, it's me. If you're there, pick up, okay?"

I grabbed the phone from the wall console in the dining room. "Maria? What's up?"

"Listen, I need you to come to this address." She rattled off a street address and a building number. For the first time, she sounded . . . scared.

"Why? What's the matter?"

"He said you have to get here soon or he'll . . ."

"Maria?"

Her voice dropped down to below a whisper. I had to strain to hear her. "Stay home. Don't come here. Just stay—"

There was a crash and then another voice came on the line.

"Oh, you can never rely on women to listen, can you?" he said. "Pity, isn't it?"

"If you hurt her, I swear to God . . ." I growled, angry welling up in my chest.

"Now, now, now, Adam. It's no use swearing to someone who will never listen. Come to the address she told you as quickly as you can. You have one hour before Maria ends up in a rough patch. Make sure you are not followed."

There was a soft click. I slammed the phone back on the console. _Damn it! I knew this would happen! I knew I should've sad something to her! _I cursed loudly as I made my way to the spare bedroom where I had been. I found my jacket (another one of Kathy the night nurse's gifts) and threw it on. I was about to go out the front door, then stopped.

The surveillance car was still across the street, watching the house. He said not to be followed . . . I cursed again and walked around the house, hoping to find a back door or something. No door, but there was a window without an outside screen in her laundry room. I had to jump up on to the dryer to pry it open.

I slipped out and fell on top of a bush that scraped my face and hands. I got up and crouched in the backyard, making sure the surveillance guys didn't hear. I waited a couple of minutes before running off down the street, away from them.

It took a while, but I found the street Maria said. The building had a rusted metal door. I managed to open it and ran in. I was in a dimly lit room, with two doors in front of me. I swore and looked at the doors.

"Where is she?" I shouted.

There was the mechanical clown laugh over the intercom.

"Hello again, Adam, I want to play a game," Jigsaw's deep voice sent a cold wave down my spine. "This time, it will be for Maria's life. Are you willing to risk yourself to save her? I'd like to see."

"You son of a bitch!" I yelled angrily.

"Pick a door, and try to find your way around the maze. But it won't be simple, Adam, because traps are everywhere you turn. Maria will be safe and sound for three hours. After that, she will die, Adam. Best of luck."

"You fucking bastard!"

My voice echoed off of the walls. I stared at the doors and hoped that someone was willing to answer my prayer. I had three hours. I had to get her the hell out of there. I walked forward and turned the handle to the door on the right.

A/N: Whoo! It's get suspenseful! (Did I spell that right?) Anyway, trust me, I'm having a blast writing this. My next chapter might take a bit, but I'll try to get it. See ya!


	13. Send in the Clowns

Chapter Thirteen: Send in the Clowns

A/N: This next chapter is, of course,from my crazy little mind, aided with the likewise craziness of my friend, Sarah. We had to keep ourselves entertained in study hall, so we sent it thinking of what to do with the maze. Let me know what all of you think!

**Adam's POV**

I stumbled into a long hallway. Dim lights were suspended from the ceiling. It looked almost like a factory of some sort. I started down the hallway as quick as I could. I could feel the panic rushing through my system, pumping my adrenaline . . . I had to get Maria out of here.

The hallway ended ahead of me, breaking left and right. I debated for a time before turning left. I started to run, but froze when I heard it. It was a soft, steady _squeak_ sound. It was almost like an un-oiled tire or something. Then, the mechanical laugh drifted toward me.

The clown puppet rode up on an old tricycle, its eyes never leaving me. It continued riding closer, so I backed away quickly. The head moved as I did, but it kept riding forward. It passed me slowly and continued the way I came, its head turning completely backwards as it focused on me still.

"What the hell?" I asked out loud. It kind of made me feel better to hear something or than that steady squeaking.

I kept going and met another break, but this time it only went right. I followed it for a time. Everything seemed normal . . . Suddenly, something silver and rusted shot up from the floor near my foot. I shouted and tried to step back. Another shot up just behind me. I ran forward as more of them shot up.

"Mother fucker!" I shouted angrily as a rusty knife cut through my shoe, grazing the side of my foot.

I ran even faster until the knives stopped coming up from the ground. I cursed again and checked my wound. It was deep, but nothing critical. I limped onwards, hoping nothing else would surprise me.

I jumped as the laugh came again. The clown rode up slowly and stopped, its eyes fixed on me.

"What the hell do you want?" I demanded.

Its mouth opened and the laugh sent shivers down my back. Again, it rode off, turning a corner I didn't quite see. I scoffed and kept going. My foot throbbed with pain as I stepped on it, but I bit my lip and kept going.

I noticed a light on the floor further down the hall. I walked cautiously to it. It was coming from a lamp in a window. The window didn't even look outside. I had no idea why it was there. It made no sense. I stopped in front of it and noticed writing on the wall just below it.

_Don't look down._

I was about to straighten up when the floor suddenly dropped under me. I reached out and managed to catch the edge of the floor. My feet dangled down into darkness. I reached up and clutched the floor with both hands, trying to pull myself up.

Above me, I heard the clown's laughter again.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, asshole!" I shouted at it.

I tried to pull myself up again, but my left hand slid off of the ledge. I was trying to get my grip again when the squeak of the tricycle wheels stopped above me. The clown now looked down at me, watching me struggle.

I finally got both hands firmly on the floor and focused all of my energy on pulling myself out of the hole. The clown backed off enough, so I threw my arm over the ledge and pulled. My torso followed slowly, but I managed to get back up.

I sat on the floor a distance away from the hole, panting with sudden exhaustion. The clown didn't ride away this time, but stayed beside me. Suddenly, Jigsaw's voice came from it.

"Two hours and twenty minutes left," he said.

I shoved the tricycle angrily. It rolled backwards, but the clown didn't attempt to stop. Instead, it fell down the hole I had managed to make it out of. The laugh drifted downward with it and then it went silently. I laughed inwardly, realizing how ridiculous this whole thing was.

I stood up and started down the hall I came from and took a different turn. I wandered around for a while. Thankfully, I didn't run into any more traps. Well, at least for a while. I was turning another corner, but froze when I heard the sound.

A steady _squeak, squeak_ and then the laugh. The clown stopped in front of me, its eyes staring.

"But . . . I just . . ." I groaned in frustration. "You just aren't going to let it go, are you?"

"Duck," the clown warned.

A/N: Don't worry, the maze isn't over yet. I'll update in a few days, hopefully. See ya!


	14. A Change in the Rules

Chapter Fourteen: A Change in the Rules

**Maria's POV**

I spat blood out on the floor. Jigsaw hit me across the face as I tried to warn Adam to stay away. Emphasis on "tried to." I cursed as one of Jigsaw's entryway cameras showed him walking into the empty room with two doors. Jigsaw pressed a button and a recording I couldn't hear began to play.

"Well, obviously he is too ignorant to listen," Jigsaw sighed, shaking his head. "It's a pity, really. I give him another chance to live and yet he's willing to die . . . for you. Why do you think that is, Maria? Why is he so determined to make sure you stay alive?"

"I don't know, maybe because he's _human_," I snapped.

He laughed as he worked on some controls by the monitors. "No, humans should appreciate what they have. They shouldn't ruin their lives by making petty mistakes or taking things they don't need. Things they don't deserve."

"And what makes you any different? You're a human, too. Or at least you used to be. What makes you so different from the people you're testing?"

"I am dying, Maria. That is what makes me different. I see death every morning I wake up. I never did anything wrong and yet, I am dying. People who spend their lives just ruining themselves walk around without a care in the world. They don't deserve to be alive!"

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. "So you're afraid of death, so what? You're so terrified that you spend the last of your days fucking with other peoples' lives? You take pleasure in taking lives because you're afraid of losing your own? That's the most pathetic thing I've ever heard."

"No! I spend the last of my days trying to teach people to appreciate their lives. I am trying to show them how pathetic they are, crawling on the ground like inferior maggots and preying off of good, hard-working people."

I shook my head. "That's human nature. There are good people and bad people. You can't stop them all from ruining their lives. People self-destruct, they make themselves unhappy . . . You can't avoid it."

"But I'll stop as many as I can before I die." He coughed loudly.

I looked at the monitors he was observing. Somehow, a camera was continuously following Adam. It would stop, then move on again, looking at him intently . . .

"What the hell is that?" I asked out loud.

Jigsaw chuckled from under his hood. "My own little spy. In case you haven't read the papers, I do like to watch."

I felt like throwing up. I watched Adam, silently praying he wouldn't get hurt. I knew better than to try and overtake Jigsaw. He controlled everything in here. I was afraid he would kill Adam if I even stood up.

"Worried about him, I see," Jigsaw said. "Strange to see how close people become when faced with such a thing as death. Lawrence and Adam were the same when they were the room together. They became friends in such an unusual way. Bittersweet, really."

"Why did you force him into this again?" I asked. "Didn't he pass the last time?"

"Oh, Maria, don't you understand. It's not Adam I want to test . . . it's you."

"What? Then why am I here instead of out in that maze?"

"Everything will make sense in time, my dear."

"Don't call me that," I snapped.

He turned and looked me from under the hood. "What's the matter? Does that remind you of your father?"

I stiffened. That was exactly who I was thinking about. "How do you—?"

I stopped when I noticed the movement on the monitors. The moving camera just caught Adam falling down a hole in the floor! I screamed at him as I watched him drop. I jumped up from my seat and raced to the monitors. Jigsaw stood beside me, calm and collected.

"Come on, Adam," I whispered. "Please, be okay . . . please . . ."

I saw his hand clutching the side of the hole as the camera moved closer and looked down at him. He was dangling over a black hole. I continued to mutter at him, even though I knew he couldn't hear me.

He eventually managed to get back up from the hole and scrambled away from it. I finally sighed with relief. I then noticed his foot bleeding pretty steadily. I shook my head and glared at Jigsaw.

"What happened to him?" I asked.

"I warned him," he answered simply. "There would be traps about. He must've slipped into one."

Jigsaw leaned forward toward a microphone and said, "Two hours and twenty minutes left."

I bit my lip to keep from laughing. Adam pushed the camera down into the hole. Wow, he was stubborn. Jigsaw laughed himself and carefully moved me aside. He moved some controls and continued laughing.

"Oh, Adam, you never cease to amaze me," he said.

Soon the camera came up from the hole from another part of the maze and went on to find Adam again.

"How did you do that?" I asked.

"I told you, I'm not trying to test Adam," Jigsaw answered. "I'm testing you. Adam will be okay . . . for now."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"There is now a change in the rules. You have two hours and five minutes to find Adam and get out of here. The only problem is, only one of you will make it out alive. Only you can choose. Go through that door on the far side of the room."

I ran to the far door, swung it open, and ran in. I almost fell over the edge of the floor. I managed to stop, one leg breaking my fall. It throbbed beneath me and I knew I couldn't stand up on it. Lights turned on row by row above me. I looked down at a wide bed of nasty, rusted spikes. I was sitting on a small platform that was barely big enough to hold me up.

It suddenly moved. I was being moved out over them! I debated trying to get off of it, but my leg was too painful to get up. The moving platform stopped, swaying violently. I clutched the edge, looking at the door I had entered. Jigsaw stood there, watching me.

"What the hell is this?" I shouted.

"Two hours and three minutes left for Adam to save you," he explained. "Maria, my dear, you just walked into your own trap. But don't worry. The game has just begun."

"You son of a—!"

The door slammed behind him.

A/N: Okay, hopefully I didn't confuse anyone with this chapter. Just message me if you don't quite get it and I'll try my best to explain. Hey, it made sense in my head, but as I read it over again. I think it hurts more than helps . . .


	15. Follow the Leader

Chapter Fifteen: Follow the Leader

**Adam's POV**

I dropped to the ground and covered my head. Explosions went off just above me. The clown laughed again.

"Oh, shut the hell up!" I shouted angrily.

I lifted my head only slightly, trying to see what went off. A long row of shotguns were smoking. It must've been a chain reaction sort of thing, if one went off, so did the others. If I had been standing, the shots would've blown into my side. I looked at the clown puppet.

"Are you actually helping me?" I asked.

It rode on its tricycle, disappearing into the dim lights. I crawled down the stretch of hallway, just in case one hadn't gone off yet. I turned left at the next corner, still crawling. I finally stood up and brushed myself off. The hallway in front of me had writing in red paint along the walls. I had to squint to read it.

_What you seek is only a ride away._

I groaned and started walking again. "What you seek is only a ride away." What the hell did that mean? Well, obviously I was seeking Maria, I got that much. But I couldn't place what he meant by "a ride away." I leaned against the wall, thinking about it.

The clown rode by me, not laughing for once. I shook my head and tried to ignore it. I wished it would've just stayed down in that frickin' hole. How it got out, I may never know, but that was beside the point. I had to focus on my clue, not that stupid clown . . .

Its tricycle wheels squeaked loudly and faded, turning at another corner. Frustrated with my lack of riddle-solving, I started down the hall again and stopped. I suddenly noticed the rusted, jagged spikes prodding from the walls. Well, I knew I couldn't lean against those.

I stepped forward . . . and tripped on a wire. Shit. The walls immediately started moving inward, the spikes coming toward me. I sprinted off, trying to avoid the spikes that kept creeping closer. One sliced through my good shoulder (meaning the one without the bullet wound) and blood ran down my arm.

I dropped to ground and crawled, knowing the higher spikes would have speared my brain or something. I crawled on all fours and rolled just beyond the closing walls. Another spike had cut into my back during my frantic crawling. I winced and clutched my shoulder.

"What, now you're resorting to some Indiana Jones shit?" I called out. "You're running out of ideas!"

I stood up and sighed. The clown rode up again and I shouted in anger.

"Will you leave me the hell alone?" I demanded. "For God's sake, all you've done is fucking ride around laughing! Shut the hell up!"

I stopped yelling. The clue slapped me in the face.

"Wait, you're _riding_ around! 'What you seek is only a _ride_ away.' I'm supposed to follow you! Holy shit, why didn't I see it before!"

The clown laughed and rode on. This time, I followed it through the maze, taking each turn it did and laughing all the while. That stupid clown! If I had just followed it, I would never have gotten hurt in the first place! It led me easily around obstacles. I made it to a heavy metal door with no more problems.

The clown stopped at the door and turned its head to look at me.

"Let me guess, I'm supposed to go in?" I asked it.

The mouth opened and Jigsaw's voice came out again.

"Very good, Adam. See you on the other side."

I opened the door and stepped into the surrounding darkness.

A/N: I know I was trying to make the chapter sound suspenseful, but I can't help laughing when I read it. I mean, the _clown_ led him to the room! Lol! Yet another ingenious idea with me and my buddy, Sarah. A lot of thanks to her. The ride's no over yet, people! Sit tight and I'll update as soon as I can!


	16. Face to Face

Chapter Sixteen: Face to Face

**Adam's POV**

Monitors were to my right, showing various points in the maze. One was moving around and finally stopped. It was staring at my back. I whirled around and saw the clown staring at me from the doorway. It had followed me in.

"That's how you knew where I was," I said out loud, turning back to the monitors. "That damn clown followed me everywhere."

"Well, I couldn't have you hurt, now could I?" a voice asked.

He walked up from the dark side of the room, a black hood with red outlines covering his face. He eased himself down into a chair beside the monitors. He gestured to one that was across from him.

"Please, sit. I'm sure you're a bit tired."

"Where's Maria?" I demanded.

Jigsaw laughed and slowly pulled his hood away. His worn face had a weak smile as he looked at me. "You cut right to the point, don't you?"

I clenched my teeth, my voice shaking. "I'd rather not have another one of my friends hurt by you."

"Oh, is that all you consider Maria? You spoke so highly of each other; I assumed it was something more than that . . ."

"Where is she?"

"Sit down and let's have a chat, Adam. Face to face. You still have time to spare."

"Not if Maria's going to die! _Where is she_?"

"I never expected it out of you. You did nothing but live with anger and hatred all of your life. And yet here you are . . . trying to help a woman you might actually love. What changed you, Adam?"

I thought for a time. I wanted to kill him. I pictured Lawrence's casket, I imagined Maria dead . . . I wanted him to feel the pain of the people he did this to. He deserved it . . . But, _he_ was the one who helped me change.

I looked away. "You did."

"How so?"

"When I was sitting in that room, I asked you to kill me. You never did. Why did you let me live, then?"

He laughed weakly. "You stayed alive, Adam. Those were the rules."

"But . . . you told Lawrence to kill me. And then you left me in that room . . ."

"You spent two weeks down there. Any normal human being would've died within days. You wanted to stay alive . . . so I let you."

"Why?"

"Think, Adam. If I would have killed you when you were begging me to, you would never have met Maria. She seems to be the only one that cared about you and she didn't know who you were. Why do you think that is?"

I shook my head.

"Guiltiness, perhaps? Maybe love at first sight, if one is willing to believe that's true. The fact is that you are alive and Maria was your means of change."

"Then why did you take her? Why are you going to let her die?"

"I wanted to test the two of you. I wanted to make sure you had changed. Are you willing to do anything to help her?"

I looked at him, determined. "Anything."

He smirked. "She was going to do the same for you. She was in this room with me for a time. But when I said she could help you, she jumped at the chance. She walked into her own trap because of you."

"Where is she? Tell me!"

"Oh, she isn't far, merely . . . hanging about."

"Please, just let her go."

"And what are you willing to do in exchange?"

I thought for a time and sighed. "You can have me. Do whatever you want to with me."

"Is that so?"

"That's what you've wanted, right? To get to me? Well, here I am."

He laughed weakly. "So, you are willingly giving up yourself?"

"If you let Maria go back to her life . . . and no bullshit loop holes. She gets to go home without any trouble."

"Agreed."

"Could I at least . . . say goodbye to her?"

Jigsaw thought for a time and looked to a door across the room. "You can take her to the doors yourself. But be warned, if you attempt to escape with her, both of you will die."

Well, shit. There went my plan . . . "Okay."

"Open that door. She'll be waiting. The only clear path to the way out is through there. Don't worry, neither of you will be hurt . . . if you follow the rules. Go ahead."

I nodded and walked to the door and opened it. Maria was sitting awkwardly on a platform suspended over spikes that seemed at least twenty feet down. Something moved under me and shot upwards. Rows of platforms formed a sort of bridge across the room to the other side where another door waited.

I walked carefully across the narrow path, but it seemed to hold my weight pretty well. I stopped just short of Maria. She looked at me sadly. She shook her head, already seeming to know what was going on.

"I can't let you do this," she said quietly.

I could hardly look at her. "Let's get you home," I muttered, carefully helping her up.

A/N: I know this chapter's kinda depressing . . . Still more to come, though. Sadly, I'll be on vacation in a few days (Don't worry, it's only a week!). I'll try to update before I leave, otherwise just sit tight and I'll update as soon as I get back. I'm glad everyone likes it, though.


	17. The Last Goodbye

Chapter Seventeen: The Last Goodbye

**Maria's POV**

Adam picked me up and let me lean my weight against him. My knee still throbbed in pain, but the tears that were rolling down my cheeks had nothing to do with my injury.

Neither of us spoke as we walked across the long stretch of platforms to the door. Adam wouldn't even look at me. I knew what the exchange was. He was going to sacrifice himself . . . for me. I thought he was crazy. I mean, we hardly knew each other. But all the same, we connected.

I suddenly thought of him and Lawrence. Lawrence was willing to die in the meager hope that he could help Adam and himself out. Now, Adam was doing the same. He was going to quietly take my place and let me go on without him.

"I won't let you stay here," I said.

He smiled and shook his head. "You'll be better off without me, anyway."

"This isn't a joke, Adam. He's going to kill you."

"I know . . . and I'm ready."

"What?"

"I know it sounds weird and ridiculously stupid, but . . . I know why I made it out of that room. I know what I was staying alive for."

"What, then?"

He looked at me and smiled weakly. "You."

Had it been a different situation, I would've laughed hysterically and told him that was the corniest thing I ever heard, but I knew he was being sincere. I just shook my head, looking away.

"I'm serious."

"Why?" I asked.

"I know this is corny, but . . . before I met you, I never really knew what love was. If only for a little while, I learned to love someone for who they were. And I really hope you know who that someone is."

I shook my head. "You hardly know me . . ."

"It doesn't matter. Maria, no matter what, you have to promise that you aren't going to try to save me."

"No, I'm going to call Rickers and tell him . . ."

"No, you're going to go back home and not try anything. The rules are fair for now, but I'm not going to risk you because of it."

I looked at him sadly, desperately. "Adam, I can't just let you die."

He took my hand. "But you have to, okay? Just forget any of this ever happened. Forget me."

"I don't want to forget you."

I knew that was corny, too. Fat, wet tears were streaming down my face. I was nearly sobbing just looking at him, knowing what's going to happen . . . I had to do something, anything. I think . . . I loved him, too . . .

He ran his thumb under my eyes, wiping away the tears. More quickly followed, I couldn't control them anymore. Suddenly, he kissed me. The first time we ever kissed . . . was going to be the last. That made me cry harder.

"I'm sorry, Maria," he said softly, his voice shaking. "But you have to go. You have to leave me here."

"I can't," I sniffed. "I love you . . ."

"I love you, too. And that's why you have to go, okay? Before he changes his mind . . ."

"I don't care anymore! I'd rather stay here and die, too, than let you be here by yourself with this fucking freak! I'm not going!"

"Maria, don't do this. Don't make it worse on me. Come on."

I let him pull me forward. I was sobbing uncontrollably as we walked. I wanted to scream at him, hit him, for wanting to leave me. But I knew he was all ready waiting for it. He was going to die in my place.

He opened the door and there was a short stretch of hallway to a thick, metal door. We walked down and stopped at the door. He put his hands on my cheeks and held them there momentarily.

"You won't do anything to help me. Got it?"

I shook my head.

"Maria, promise me."

"I . . . promise," I finally managed.

"Good." He kissed me again and let go of my face. "Don't worry, I won't die unhappy anymore. I'm ready."

I shook my head again. There was nothing I could do. Adam wasn't going to be leaving with me. I inhaled shakily and hugged him.

"I'm going to miss you," I muttered, defeated.

He hugged me tightly and let go. "I'll miss you, too. Be careful and take care of yourself. I love you."

I opened the door and looked back. He was already down the hall, about to open the door back into hell . . .

"Adam!" I called.

He didn't turn around. The door shut behind him. I limped to it and tried to pull it open. It was locked. I slammed my fist against it, angry and crying. I sank down to the floor, clutching my knees to my chest. I buried my face in my arms and continued to cry, not caring if anyone ever found me again.

A/N: Poor Maria! Wow, that chapter was corny and depressing at the same time! It was going to be titled "Adam's Revelation" initially because Adam is finally accepting his fate, but I figured their parting should be more emphasised. Thanks a lot for reading and let me know what you think! See you next week, y'all!


	18. Jigsaw's Secret

Chapter Eighteen: Jigsaw's Secret

**Adam's POV**

I heard Maria hitting the door behind me. I wanted to go back, but I knew I couldn't. I wouldn't risk her. I walked slowly across the platforms and opened the door to Jigsaw's room. He was sitting casually in a chair, his hood drawn back. He was toying with the clown puppet on the tricycle.

He glanced up and smiled thinly. "Did she go on?"

I nodded. "At least for now."

"Go ahead and have a seat, Adam."

"What, are you just holding out on killing me? Just get it over with, you've had your fun."

He chuckled softly. "We've only just begun. Sit down."

I sighed and plopped down on a chair in front of him. He gently pushed the clown doll away. It stopped near the monitors of the maze. I noticed one was positioned outside of the door I had left Maria at. She was sitting on the floor, seemingly crying. Thankfully, there was no audio.

Jigsaw followed my eyes. He shook his head thoughtfully. "Poor girl. She finally allowed herself to become a part of someone else's life and then she has to leave them to die."

"Why Maria, of all people?" I asked. I hardly cared what happened to me anymore.

"She was so broken when her father was killed and then years later she found her mother burned. She has stared death in the face numerous times."

"But you killed her mother. Hell, I wouldn't be surprised if you killed her dad, too."

He chuckled. "On the contrary, I knew her father."

"What?"

"Horatio was a good man. He spent his life helping those who needed it and he never once complained of the hardships in his life. He had the right to live."

"How do you know so much about her family?"

"Simple enough . . . I am Maria's grandfather."

My mouth dropped open. "_What_?"

"Teresa was my daughter. She left little Maria to Horatio and went off as if nothing happened. She let my granddaughter grow up without knowing her roots, her family. I would have been more than proud to be a part of her life, but I was never able to."

"You mean to tell me you killed your own daughter?"

"She didn't deserve to live, Adam. A woman who spends her life rejecting her responsibilities, expecting others to clean up her messes, doesn't deserve to live."

I shook my head. "You wanted to be a part of Maria's life, but, at the same time, you were going to take it?"

He nodded. "But she's learned her lesson. She knows how fragile her life is and how she must appreciate it. And you, Adam . . ."

He stopped, just looking at me.

"Have you learned your lesson?"

I shrugged. "It doesn't really matter what I have to say. It's your choice. I'm here, so kill me or don't. The floor is open."

He smiled. "Well, we'll just have to see . . ."

He stood up and wandered over to the monitors. He ran his finger over Maria's image. "Tell me . . . what is it that you love about her?"

I raised an eyebrow at his back. What the hell did he care? He was more concerned about killing me than worrying about my opinions of women. But, if he was telling the truth, he had spent years not knowing his flesh and blood. Okay . . . bad choice of words. I finally realized that he was doing all of this to get closer to her. In some twisted sense, it was almost a bonding moment for him . . .

"She's smart, beautiful . . . she loves her family and her job. She was more than willing to go out of her way for me. She gets a little unhappy sometimes, but she lives her life."

Jigsaw stepped away from the monitors and turned to look at me. "Do you believe you are the same way, Adam?"

I shrugged. He already knew everything about me. It was pointless to attempt to lie. "Sometimes. There are days when I feel like it would be so much better if I just never woke up the next morning. I was like that for some time. Then, when I woke up at the hospital, I looked forward to the days I would see her. She was the reason I woke up."

He nodded. "Very well. Follow me."

A/N: You didn't see that twist comin', did you guys? Ha ha! Anyway, it took me a while to update, but don't worry, I'm back! Well, temporarily . . . Read my profile just so you know. Thanks for reading, guys!


	19. Guardian Angel

Chapter Nineteen: Guardian Angel

**Maria's POV**

I was out of tears. I sighed heavily and tried to calm myself down. I had to find a way in there. I had to get to Adam . . .

I stood carefully and tried my weight on my bad leg. It seemed like I had hyper-extended it, but I could move a little. I took a step and froze as pain shot through me. I cursed loudly and took another step toward the door that led out to the street. I almost made it, but I had to stop again.

After a few minutes of pain and cursing, I made it to the door. I was reaching for the handle when it suddenly swung open. Rickers's big frame was outside the door. He fought to catch his breath again.

"What . . . the hell are you . . . doing?" he demanded.

"You have to get in there," I ordered. "Adam's inside with Jigsaw and we have to help him! We have to go!"

"What happened?"

"It doesn't matter, just get through that door!"

I didn't mean to yell at him. After all, he was there to help me. But Adam could have already been dead . . . I stopped and sniffed. Rickers hugged me carefully and then suddenly picked me up. He carried me over his shoulder like a little kid and, also like a little kid, I kicked and screamed to no end.

"Knock it off!" he shouted over me. "Adam may be in trouble, but I'm not risking you, either!"

"We have to do something!" I cried.

"Damn it, Maria! Stop!"

"No, Rickers! We have to get Adam! Let me go!"

He dumped me into the back seat of his car and shot the door. It was one of the cruisers that had no way of getting out of the back seat unless someone opened the door for you on the outside. I slammed my body against the door and it didn't budge. I rolled down the window.

"Let me out of here, Rickers!"

"Not until you calm down and tell me what the hell's going on! Fetch said—"

"Fetch! Where is he? It's his fault I'm here in the first place! Arrest him and let me kick his ass!"

"Fetch is dead, Maria."

"What?"

"He said something about no antidote and then he told me where you were. He died on the floor of the station."

I looked down temporarily. I felt a small twinge of sympathy for him. At least Fetch went as far as to try and help me from the psycho that killed him . . . even Fetch was the reason I was in there.

I looked back at Rickers. "You have to try and get inside. Adam is in there with Jigsaw and he's going to be killed if we keep talking."

He nodded. "I'll get him, Midge, don't worry."

I watched him run inside of the door on the outside and disappear as the door shut behind him. Well, I was locked in a car with a messed up knee, waiting to see if either of the men in my life would make it out alive again.

I cursed loudly, vowing that I was to kick someone's ass, no matter who came out.

A/N: All right, I know the chapter title's corny. I'm bad at those! But, all the same, it's pretty true. Rickers always seems to be there for Maria whenever she needs help. Stay tuned, kids, the next chapter's going to be fun! I'll update as soon as I can!


	20. Pieces of a Puzzle

Chapter Twenty: Pieces of a Puzzle

**Adam's POV**

I didn't really argue when he said to follow him. I was starting to get impatient with all of this bullshit. Okay, so Jigsaw was Maria's grandfather, the one she never knew. Jigsaw killed his own daughter, Maria's mom, to teach her a lesson. Then, he was about to do the same to his granddaughter, Maria, to see if she was just like her mom. My head hurt from all of it.

We walked down a hall that was on the other side of the room, just to the side of the spike chamber where I found Maria. He stopped and opened a door. It seemed to lead down into darkness. Jigsaw flipped on a single light bulb that swung above the stairway we began to go down.

"Watch your step," he said, his voice edged with laughter.

"What's all this about?" I asked, fed up. "Why do you just keep waiting to kill me?"

"I want you to understand before I do anything of the sort."

"What do I have to understand? I mean, I've done wrong before. I don't 'appreciate my life.' Isn't that what you always do? Kill people that don't seem to care?"

"You seem to care, but you have merely . . . lost sight of what is important to you. Just follow me for a bit longer and then your fate will be decided."

I was quiet while we went down the stairs. They ended at yet another door. I started to wonder how big this place really was. It opened up to an office-looking area, diagrams and plans thrown about casually. A worn-looking desk with a chair on wheels was to our left.

He eased himself down into the chair and immediately began flipping through the papers cluttered on the desk. I looked around carefully as he was thumbing through his material. I stopped at a small diagram that looked like it was made from a shoebox. It was a broken-up, nasty bathroom. Two little men were on opposite sides of them room, seemingly chained to the pipes on the sides of the box.

_It was the plan he used for Lawrence and me!_

I looked at the men sadly for a moment and began to look around the area the box was sitting at. A paper was beside it, explaining everything we went through: "Saws in the toilet- _Follow your heart_, key in the tub, cigarettes and cell phone- _X marks the spot_, poisoned blood . . ."

He knew everything that was going to happen before we even did it! He knew Lawrence wouldn't kill me in time, he knew one of us would end up cutting our foot off, he knew we would both die down there and Ali and Diana would die, too. Jigsaw had every move figured out.

"Ah ha!" he said happily, chuckling at his success. "Now, let's see. Adam Michael, born October 30th. Parents were William and Kelly. Grew up in little town in Iowa then moved to New York after 13th birthday . . ."

"How do you know all of that?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"Met Maria Cassidy at the age of 17 . . ."

"What? I never knew Maria before!"

Jigsaw merely smiled. "Actually, you two attended the same high school. Well, temporarily, anyway. You were jumping from school to school because you flunked out or somehow became expelled. Maria had been attending the same district for most of her life, but she was getting mixed into some bad crowds, that and with her suicide attempt . . . She was an unhappy girl."

I stood in front of his desk. "We knew each other?"

"Yes, apparently you two had three classes together: American Government, Algebra, and P.E. You were signed up for high level classes, Adam."

"I was a smart kid, I just never applied myself. I didn't want to."

Jigsaw shook his head. "And look where it led you. Pity. Anyway, you seemed to never really talk, mostly because you skipped class and Maria was out of school for two weeks or so because of a little episode she had."

"So we ran into each other in high school. That gives you enough reason to kill us both?"

He tossed the paper in front of him to land among the others. "No, both of you did things in your life that showed that you didn't care what happened to you. Maria tried to kill herself and you just wandered through, expecting to go nowhere, which is exactly where you ended up."

"You choose people that all connect somehow. I was paid to spy on Lawrence. Maria and me went to high school together. Why are you doing this?"

"Because of one person's mistake, both of you ended up ruining your lives. Do you remember what happened when you were sixteen, Adam?"

I thought for a moment and shook my head.

"There was a night when your father came home covered in blood."

My eyes bulged. That was true! "My dad just came home with blood on his shirt. He only hit Mom when she asked what happened. He just threw the shirt away and went to bed. The next day, the papers . . ."

"Had reports of Horatio Cassidy being shot in cold blood during a sting," Jigsaw finished.

"That was my dad?"

He laughed. "It's a small world, after all. Your father ended up mixed in with drugs. Horatio and Rickers inconveniently raided the area where he did business."

I shook my head. "So you mean to tell me my _dad_ was the cause of all of this?"

Jigsaw nodded. "Your father treated you and your mother horribly. Through that, you lashed out by becoming a delinquent. He later killed Maria's father, which made her attempt suicide. You see, Adam, we all live in a tangled web and this time, it seems your father was the spider who wove it."

I was dumbfounded. My dad was the cause of all of that. He killed a man. That was how Maria and I were connected and we never even knew about it.

"Is that why you chose us?" I asked.

"In a way," Jigsaw answered. "Now, I'll ask this again since you didn't seem to have a certain answer. Do you think you learned your lesson?"

I was about to answer when I heard heavy steps down the stairs. The door was still open, so Rickers rushed in. He pointed his gun at Jigsaw.

"You!" he exclaimed. "You did all this?"

Jigsaw held up his hands. "Oh, now, there's no need for weaponry, Charles."

Rickers shook his head. "How could you? Your own granddaughter? What's the matter with you, John?"

"You know him?" I asked, bewildered.

"Of course I know him. He's Maria's grandfather. He came to me after Horatio was killed. He asked if I could let him know how Maria was doing. I didn't know he would use it for something like this! Is that what you did? Did you use me to get to Maria? Answer me!"

"I never used you. If anyone, I used him." He pointed in my direction.

"What?" I asked. "I never knew Maria." Well, I guess I did when we were teenagers, but we never really _knew_ each other then. This was all getting too confusing.

"You did as an acquaintance when you were children. Despite asking Charles here to account for Maria while she was growing up, I did my own research. I found the hospital records that told about her emergency stomach pumping because of an overdose. From there, I watched and waited. She was turning a new leaf after that. Maybe because she realized her father would never approve of what she was doing with herself or maybe she just didn't want to end up like her mother.

"I followed her as she went to college and then to the police academy. That was around the time I was told of what was eating away inside of me . . . And that was when I decided it was time that ungrateful people should pay their dues. Teresa was the first. Maria was on the force by then, so I watched her begin her race to find the killer . . . me."

He stopped momentarily, almost like he was reminiscing about a happy time. The sick fuck . . .

"I knew Maria's time was to come eventually, I just had to find good means of doing so. I kept my games going and soon, Adam and Lawrence came into my sights. Lawrence was nothing much to excite myself about. But Adam . . . you had the instinct to live, even though it seemed hopeless.

"So, out of the goodness of my heart, I let you live. I called the police station and told them almost exactly where to find you. Of course, Maria was one of the first on the scene. I knew she would concern herself with you, making sure you would live. You were the first step to her undoing.

"I took flowers to your room after you fell asleep. A little congratulations gift, I suppose. Maria came to your aid immediately, which is what I had assumed would happen. I waited at the hospital and made sure she saw me, made sure she knew what she was heading toward . . . Next came the funeral. I was a bit surprised you didn't recognize me, Charles."

"I was kind of far away," Rickers muttered. His gun shook slightly. "I couldn't see you clearly."

Jigsaw smiled. "Of course. That was where I saw you. You told Maria, as soon as you came around, anyway. After I was certain she knew the man at the funeral was the killer and Charles was gone, I made that phone call. I already knew that the tap would trace me. I knew she would come and find the address. All were merely pieces of a puzzle."

"Why go through all that work, just to get Maria?" I asked. "Why save me, why call her? Why any of this bullshit?"

"Why?" Jigsaw shrugged. "It was actually rather fun."

A/N: Wow, that took a while! Anyway, I like this chapter 'cause it kinda puts it all together. I'll update as soon as I can. Later, guys, and thanks for reading!


	21. Indiana Jones Only Wishes

Chapter Twenty-One: Indiana Jones Only Wishes He Could Do This . . .

A/N: Okay, for some ungodly known reason, I've been in a horrible Indiana Jones spat. The title may have nothing to do with the chapter, but it makes me laugh. Read and enjoy! Sorry for not updating forever . . . Don't hurt me!

**Adam's POV**

Rickers cocked his gun angrily.

"All right, I've had enough of this, John! I'm taking you in."

Jigsaw just laughed. "How long will it be before you all learn that you cannot stop me? I am doing these people a favor, Charles, don't you see? I am helping them with their lives."

"No, you're ending them!"

"I never touched a single one of those people. You have no evidence."

"No evidence!" I exclaimed. "Look around you, you fucking psycho!"

I gestured to the box diagram of the bathroom, the pictures of devices he was designing . . . All of it was just ways he killed people.

"Don't make this worse on yourself, John," Rickers reasoned. "Just come with me."

Jigsaw shook his head. "I don't need to come civilly, Charles. I am to die soon, anyway. Would you take a dying man to prison?"

"Of course he would!" I answered angrily. "Especially if that dying man killed other people!"

I looked at Rickers. He made no move to get to Jigsaw. He just stared past him, as though lost in thought.

"You're going to, aren't you?" I asked.

Rickers didn't answer, just continued to stare at nothing.

"You won't do it, will you, Charles?" Jigsaw asked with a smile. "You can't kill me."

"Oh, I can kill you," Rickers answered immediately. "Only problem is . . . I don't think we'd be able to get out of here without you. You have a reputation for traps, John. Lead the way out."

Jigsaw stood up slowly. "Very well. Just follow me."

He walked off across the room to a metal staircase. He disappeared up them. Rickers began to follow, but I grabbed his arm.

"You gotta be kidding me," I said. "You're actually going to follow him?"

"Do you have any other idea?" he asked.

"How did you get in here?"

"The door that I found Maria at was unlocked . . ."

"Then let's go that way! We might have more of a chance than to follow the guy that's been trying to fucking kill us all this time!"

He thought for a time, debating with himself. He finally sighed and moved away from the stairs Jigsaw took. "All right, we'll try it out. Stay close to me."

We ran back the way he had come from the hidden stairs. We ran up and entered into the room with monitors. We started to run across the platforms suspended above the spikes. Rickers was ahead of me, just about thirty feet short of the door. The platform he was stepping on suddenly disappeared.

He dropped downwards so I reached out to grab him. My hands caught one of his arms. I was slipping off of the platform I was on, his weight and mine too much to handle. I used my feet to try to grip the smooth metal. I was nearly completely off when my left foot tangled with the cable that held up the platform.

I felt my ankle strain immediately and shouted at the pain, but it was the only thing holding Rickers and me up. The platform swung violently back and forth. I tightened my grip on Rickers's arm, my arms shaking.

"Well, this is too Indiana Jones for my liking," Rickers said. He winced and clutched his shoulder. "I think it's dislocated."

"Better that than having a spike through your gut," I tried to joke.

The platform swung again and I nearly lost a hold of Rickers's arm.

"Damn it!" Rickers cursed. "Is there any way you can get back up there?"

I glanced up and noticed the cable tangled mercilessly around my ankle. My foot was tingling; the circulation was cut off.

"I don't think we got a chance," I said honestly.

"What happened?"

"You seem to forget, Charles," Jigsaw's voice loomed around us. "I control everything in this game."

"Let us out of here, John!" Rickers shouted.

"Getting out is simple enough. Just let go . . ."

"Screw you!"

Jigsaw laughed. "You that cable won't hold you for long, Adam. If you drop him now, you might be able to make it out yourself. What are you going to do?"

I looked down at the man dangling beneath me. His face was twisted in pain. He looked at me and nodded.

"I'd rather have you make it out and help Maria than both of us dying, kid," he muttered.

"I'm not going to just drop you," I snapped.

"It's okay. I won't blame you for it . . ."

"You've already killed one man, Adam," Jigsaw's voice rang around me. "What's another to you?"

"I'm not going to do it!" I shouted.

"And why not?"

"Because I'm not my father!"

Jigsaw laughed again. "Well, at least you will die a cleansed man, Adam. I commend you."

I looked around, desperate. Something had to be a way out . . . I glanced at Rickers.

"You ready?" I asked.

"Do it," he muttered.

I waited momentarily, then let go of his arm, trying to throw him forward. I reached up and grabbed a hold of the edge of the platform, my fingers sliding. I managed to hold on. I looked behind me and saw Rickers . . .

He was clinging to the platform that was in front of the door. He was still alive!

"Get up!" I shouted at him. "Pull yourself up and get out of here!"

He pulled his heavy weight up, panting.

"What about you?" he called.

"That doesn't matter, Rickers! Get the hell out of here!"

He stood up and opened the door. I reached up and carefully untangled my ankle. I gripped the side of the platform with one hand. I felt the metal cutting into my palm. I couldn't let go . . .

My feet dangled beneath me, nearly useless with my ankle sprained. I held on with both hands. I was pretty much screwed.

"Well, well, well, Adam," Jigsaw sighed. "After all you've been through, it is now time for you to die. Anything you would like to say?"

I looked around me again. I smirked when I noticed it.

"Go to hell, you son of a bitch!" I yelled at the top of my lungs.

I let go of the platform and felt myself falling downward . . .


	22. Escape I Hope

Chapter Twenty-Two: Escape . . . I Hope

**Adam's POV**

I plummeted downwards, only praying my idiotic idea would work. It was one of those times you wished humans were made with wings. Then I could make it out. Just as I almost felt free, like one of those out-of-body experiences, my body suddenly stopped its free fall, crashing hard against metal. I waited for the pain . . . I had to be dead.

I opened my eyes. I was still okay. Well, as okay as I could be, considering the situation. I allowed myself to breathe again. I managed to land clumsily on one of the platforms that dropped. Since it was made of metal, it held my weight and kept the spikes from piercing through.

I sat up and looked around. It was darker down there in the pit, I could hardly see my hands in front of me. I squinted and noticed a small line of light in front of me. It looked almost like it was coming from under a door.

Without trying to think about it, I grabbed one of the spikes ahead of me. It immediately cut into my palms. Well, at least I had my tetanus shot. I clutched the spike and pulled myself forward. The platform reluctantly followed me. I'm not sure how long I did that, just dragging myself across the bed of spikes and my hands gushing blood the whole time.

I saw the light slowly coming close. It was a door! I just hoped it was a way out . . . I got close enough to reach up and open the handle. All I could see was pitch black, nothing else. I hauled myself up from the platform and spikes. I felt around blindly, trying to figure out what was inside the door.

I crawled forward slowly and felt a step. I walked up on my hands and knees, which was kind of stupid considering my palms had huge gashes that let dirt and whatever else make its way into my system. I continued until there were no more steps. I felt up the wall until I found another handle. I pulled it open, still hoping.

I blinked, feeling fluorescent lights burn my eyes. I looked around after my eyes adjusted. It took a little bit to figure out where I was. Needless to say, I wasn't happy at all when I realized I had walked back into the maze.

"Goddamn it!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I was so pissed off! It took me a lifetime to get out of that damn thing in the first place and now I had to go through it again! And I could've ended up in the same damn spot I left! I started walking, cursing with every step. I had to walk with my hands held above my heart so the blood didn't flow as much.

It dripped down my arms like some bloody horror movie scene. Well, look at where I was. It was a frickin' horror movie! I stumbled through the maze again, attempting to retrace my steps from the first time I went in.

I was feeling woozy and light-headed from frustration and blood loss. I turned another corner and my legs buckled under me. I dropped like a ton of bricks, my head striking the cement floor with a sickening crack. I felt it vibrate through every one of my senses. I couldn't move.

My thoughts drifted in and out. I was trying to keep from blacking out, but it was getting harder and harder to keep my eyes open . . . Finally, I gave in to the darkness that loomed up in the back of my head.

I would just sleep . . . Only for a little while . . .

A/N: I know it's short! Sorry, but at least I'm writing again! Don't worry, more on the way ASAP (Which may be a while, but . . .)!


	23. What Ever Happened to Maria?

Chapter Twenty Three: What Ever Happened to Maria?

**Maria's POV**

I held my breath when I saw the door ease open. My stomach flipped over when I saw Rickers walk weakly to the car, his right arm hanging limp at his side. He walked over and got in the driver's seat, trying to avoid looking at me.

He drove with his left hand, tears rolling down his cheeks, from pain or emotion, I don't know. I didn't really care at the moment. I loved Rickers, he was my godfather, but I knew the inevitable happened. Adam was dead somewhere in that hell of a warehouse. I tried to force the sickening thoughts from my mind.

We didn't talk the whole way to the hospital. Rickers pulled up to the emergency entrance and looked back at me.

"I'm sorry, Midge," he said softly. "I'm really sorry."

I shook my head, trying to keep the tears away. "Someone has to go back there. We have to get this guy, Rickers. We have to . . ."

He head throbbed painfully as I started crying, again. Rickers got out of the car and got a nurse to help me. I was put in a wheelchair with my leg propped up. Rickers walked beside me, his arm still dangling beside him. I took his left hand and squeezed it.

"We'll be okay," I muttered.

"Of course we will," he said.

We were forced to let go of each other's hands as we were taken to separate rooms. Rickers had to get his shoulder popped back in and I needed X-rays and MRI's to see how bad my leg was.

After a _long_ afternoon of poking and prodding from the doctors, I was left alone in a room. I sat looking at the hideous painting across the room and the otherwise blinding whiteness. My head hurt, my leg hurt, my heart hurt . . . Adam was dead.

There was a gentle knock on the door. It opened and Rickers entered, his right arm securely back together and in a sling.

"Heya, my little trooper," he said with a weak smile. "How you feeling?"

"Not good," I answered honestly. "I miss him already."

"I know you do, Midge."

He came over and wrapped his good arm around me, patting my back the way he did when I cried about my father. He let go and pulled a chair over to sit beside my bed. He propped his feet up on the edge of my mattress and let out a sigh of comfort, which made me laugh.

He grinned at me. "It's good to hear that again."

"Don't get too hopeful," I said sadly. "It won't last for long."

"I, uh, sent a team to the warehouse. To see if they could find something."

"And?"

He was silent for a time. "There was nothing. It was completely empty."

I blinked. "You gotta be kidding me."

He shook his head. "I wish. The place was totally cleaned out."

"In that short of a time? Holy shit . . ."

"I know. I'm sorry, Midge. No sign of Adam, either."

"I figured."

"He saved me, you know. If it hadn't been for him, I would've been spiked through the gut and dead . . ."

I held up my hand. "Stop. Not now, Rickers, okay? I've had enough crying today. Please, just don't right now."

He nodded. "Deal. I'm gonna catch a nap. The doctors said he had to have 'psychological analysis' or some shit before we were able to leave. Wake me when they want to dissect my brain, or whatever it is they do."

I laughed again and tried to settle down. It was a lot easier with Rickers beside me. But I knew, as soon as I was released, I would be back out there. I was going to find that bastard. And I was going to kill him.


	24. Sweets to the Sweet

Chapter Twenty Four: _Sweets to the Sweet_

**Maria's POV**

I woke up in a cold sweat. Rickers was still snoozing beside me, his feet propped up on the edge of my mattress. I kept seeing Adam, somewhere, slowly dying . . . I started to cry again. God, I was getting to be an emotional wreck.

I sat up slowly, trying not to wake Rickers. He had had enough for the day. So had I, but I could handle it on my own. I reached for my crutches, new ones from the hospital that would cost a fortune, and strapped on my knee brace, also very expensive and itchy.

I stood carefully, putting all of my weight on my left leg and keeping my right foot off of the ground. I made my way to the window in the room. It was dark out, but the city lights made an orange haze in the sky, muting out any of the stars.

I turned away and made my way toward the door. I didn't know where I was going, but my legs were stiff and I was tried of sitting around like a frickin' bump on a log (as my dad liked to say). I made it to the door and step-crutched out of it. I stopped almost immediately.

The halls were empty. Even the night nurses were gone. I looked around cautiously. My gaze stopped at a simple bouquet of flowers. A note was attached to the vase. I tore it away from the ribbon and ripped the envelope open.

_Maria-_

_"Sweets to the sweet." Ah, Hamlet. The endless tragedy. Can you compare your life to his? Are you a hero or perhaps just a victim in a far deeper tragedy? My poor, poor Maria. "To be or not to be, that is the question. Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune." Can you handle the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, sweet? I hope you can. Adam still has._

_Best Regards_

His signature jigsaw piece was drawn in the corner. I looked at the note with watery eyes. The sick bastard was sending me flowers. How gave a crap about Hamlet? The deaths in _Hamlet_ were for a reason! Jigsaw just killed for the sheer fucking entertainment!

I was about to crumple up the note and throw it away when I saw the last line. _Adam still has._ I reread the note carefully. _Can you handle the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, sweet? . . . Adam still has._ I read it a third time, tears coming again, but out of relief.

Adam was still alive!

"Rickers!" I shouted. "Rickers! Adam's alive! Oh, my God, Adam's alive!"

I heard a startled gasp from my room. Rickers rushed over and stumbled out of the room. He looked at me in shock.

"What are you doing out of bed and on that leg?" he demanded.

"That doesn't matter!" I argued. "Look! Look at this! Adam's alive! He's alive, Rickers!"

He read the note with much less enthusiasm than I did. He shook his head.

"This doesn't mean Adam's alive. It just means the psycho reads Shakespeare."

"Didn't you ever have a class on this stuff?"

He looked at me blankly.

"_Hamlet_ is a tragedy. Almost everyone dies, with the exception of Horatio and a few others. 'The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune' means injustice or outer turmoil. He's saying Adam survived whatever he had to go through. Adam 'handled the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.'"

Rickers's eyebrows shot up. "So?"

"He's alive, Rickers! Trust me on this. Adam is alive somewhere out there. Now we have to find him."

"How are we going to do that?"

"We're going back to the warehouse. Jigsaw has to have left us clues, one way or another. We're going tomorrow."


	25. The First Clue

Chapter Twenty Five: The First Clue

**Maria's POV**

With the realization that Adam was alive, I was more determined than ever to get out of that hospital. The doctors said I had torn ligaments in my knee, which would mean permanent arthritis in the joint. He said surgery would be the best bet for me at that point.

But I refused. I had to get out of there and fast. It could have meant Adam's life.

Rickers made me do the surgery. He said that the force's top men were involved, combing through every little part of that warehouse. I would have the surgery while they were out playing "heroes."

It was nothing too serious, just one of those scope things that repair it with only a few spots for a scar. Now, I had to stay off of the leg for even longer.

I was dozing in and out from the morphine hits they had given me. I didn't really notice anyone had come into my room. It was an older man, quiet with a deep, sort of soothing voice. I fought to keep awake, trying to figure out who it was . . .

"Go to sleep, Maria," the deep, strangely familiar voice said. "I promise you'll be okay."

I was fighting against my eyelids as they drooped down over me sight. I was so tired, but that man . . .

"Dad?" I managed to ask.

I heard no answer. I passed out for about five hours.

I shot awake, another dream of Adam scaring me. I panted in my bed, trying to catch my breath. Then, I remembered what I saw before I fell asleep. The man in my room, promising I would be okay. I looked around, half-hoping he would be there. My room was empty.

"Dad?" I asked quietly.

Still no answer. I flopped back against my pillows, cursing myself for getting my hopes up. Out of the corner of my eye. I saw a piece of paper, neatly folded under a cup of water. I squinted at the cup as I noticed the black letters written across it. "PEER."

I took the paper and read it.

_Your first clue. Let's see if you are as smart as I think you are. Best of luck._

A/N: I know it's short. Sorry, but I like those cliffhangers! Lol! Hope you like my updates so far! Later, peoples!


	26. 86

Chapter Twenty Six: "86"

**Maria's POV**

I stared at the cup in wonder. The word written across it stared back. "PEER." What did he mean by it? It had to mean something, the only way we would be able to find Adam.

Desperate, I picked up the cup. I stared, my eyes nearly losing focus on the word. I was about to throw the cup out of pure frustration. I stopped when I noticed writing on the bottom of the cup. Two numbers were there, floating and bending as the water in the cup moved. _86_.

"86?" I repeated aloud. "What the hell does that mean?"

I looked at "PEER" and back at "86." Okay . . . "PEER," "86." This was getting me nowhere. I groaned in anger and set the cup down with more force than I intended. Water sloshed over the sides and on to my hand. I wiped my hand off on the bed sheets, grumbling as I did so.

I caught of whiff of something salty. I smelled again. It was close. I lifted my hand to stay under my nose. The water in the cup was salt water. I looked at the cup again.

"Salt water?" I pondered aloud. "'PEER' and '86.' Where do those come from? 'PEER' . . . '86.' Oh, my God, Pier 86!"

I called Rickers's cell, waiting impatiently. He was finally released the day before and he had vanished from the hospital. I waited for about five rings until he picked up.

"Is there a pier 86 in the city?" I demanded as soon as he answered.

"Uh . . ." He thought for a moment. "Yeah, I think it's where they unload certain cargo ships if I remember right. Why? What's up?"

"We have to go there. Jigsaw was in here again."

"Again! How the hell did he get in there this time!"

"I don't know and don't care right now, Rickers. Come pick me up. Bring one of the forensic teams out here, too. We're combing every nook and cranny of Pier 86. Adam could be there."

"Maria, that pier is four miles long and filled with cargo containers. There's a shipping yard. How can you expect us to go through every _inch_ of that place?"

"We're going through it until we find something about Adam. I'm not giving up on him, Rickers. Not yet. We have to find him."

"Midge, I'm sorry, but there's a damn good chance this is all a sham. Jigsaw is just messing with your head and playing on your emotions. He wants you to think Adam is alive, so you'll walk right into one of his traps . . ."

"No, I can feel it in my gut. Adam's alive. Jigsaw isn't lying."

There was silence on the other line for a time. Rickers finally sighed heavily into the phone. "I'll call the Commissioner and tell him we'll meet the forensics team out there. Be ready to go in fifteen minutes. I hope you're right about this, kid."

"I always go with my gut. And have I ever been wrong?"

"I'm startin' to wonder . . ."

"Meet you here, Rickers."

I hung up, adrenaline already pumping. I had to find him this time . . .


	27. Down by the Bay

Chapter Twenty Seven: Down by the Bay

**Maria's POV**

I waited impatiently for Rickers, pacing (or crutch-walking) around my room. After a while, I tossed my crutches aside and forced myself to walk through the stinging shots in my knee. The doctors said not to force myself into walking, but, under this situation, they would make a damn exception.

Rickers had his concerned caregiver look on his face when he saw me standing on my own. He grabbed my crutches and offered them to me.

"You know, you're going to ruin that leg, Midge," he said.

I pushed the crutches back toward him. "I can live with that. Is the team out?"

"Yeah, but I told 'em to wait until we got there. Seriously, Maria, use your crutches. You'll be faster on them."

"No, they'll just get in the way."

I limped past him defiantly. I could hear him chuckle as he followed me. "All right, Stumpy, whatever you say."

We got into his car and had a tense eight-minute drive to Pier 86. Gulls were scared away every time a crane groaned to lift a cargo container. Rickers cursed violently as he got out of the car. He rushed over to Mattix, our city's best forensics analyst, yelling the whole way.

"What the hell are those cranes doing?" he shouted over the noise of a container hitting the ground and the grinding gears of the crane. "This is a crime scene! They can't move anything!"

"Technically, it's not a crime scene," Mattix replied calmly. "You're just going off a hunch the kid has."

"I'm two years younger than you, Mattix!" I said angrily. "I'm not a kid to you!"

He acknowledged me with a glance and turned back to Rickers. "Anyway, the super won't let us comb the area. Malloy says he has nothing to hide."

"So why isn't he letting us check it out?" Rickers asked.

Mattix shrugged. "Reputation? He says if there's no warrant, we aren't getting in."

"Where is he?" I demanded.

I was ignored as Rickers and Mattix discussed a possible solution. Damn men and the macho freakin' attitudes. Why did I get into this business?

"Hey!" I shouted.

The two jumped, acting as if I wasn't there in the first place.

"Where's the super?"

"Um, in his office, I think," Mattix answered slowly.

"Thank you."

I walked off without another word. Actually, I don't think the boys really paid attention. I found the office relatively easily (A trailer with a Port-A-Potty next to it. Awesome digs!). It was a short distance away from the cranes. I pounded on the door angrily.

"Buzz off!" a gruff voice snapped from the other side of the door. "I got shit to do!"

"So do I!" I shouted back with just as much irritation. "I need to talk to you, Malloy!"

"Forget it! Go back home, there's nothing here!"

I pounded the door again. "Listen to me! There's a man out there somewhere! And I swear to God, if I find him dead, you'll be the one who faces charges, Malloy! Let that team search the area!"

The door swung open and a squat man in his mid-40's glared at me. "What's so important about this guy?"

"You know the cases in the papers?" I asked. "The ones from that sick freak Jigsaw?"

Malloy's eyes flashed in realization. "Yeah, what of him?"

"We think we stashed something or some_one_ here. Let us search the yard. That's all we need out of you."

He considered it. "All right. I'll call the guys off. You got two hours."

I nodded and went back to where the team was waiting. Mattix and Rickers were still talking, apparently not getting anywhere. I walked over to the two men and held up my hand to quiet them.

"What?" Mattix asked.

"He caved," I answered. "We have two hours."

The two blinked at me. "You got him to let us in?"

"Yeah. Now, fan 'em out. Look for anything suspicious and I mean _anything._ We only have two hours and there's no idea how much time Jigsaw will give us. Comb through everything, don't cut corners. Shout if there's anything. Keep communicating with each other."

The forensics team all nodded and went off. Mattix opened his mouth to yell after them, but stopped when he saw the look on my face. He shut it again immediately.

"You, make sure Malloy has all of those guys out of the way," I told Mattix. "No crane or container moves until our two hours are up. Rickers, let's get the inventory of today's shipments. We'll see if we can find any unauthorized containers lying around."

I started toward Malloy's office again, this time with Rickers beside me.

"This is one of the biggest shipyards in the city," Rickers said. "Finding an unauthorized container in two hours is impossible, Maria."

"Well, we're going to try, anyway," I answered simply.

"Look, for all you know, Adam is dead . . ."

"And for all you know, he's somewhere out in this shipyard! None of us know what we're looking for, but we know it's here! So, stop being so frickin' pessimistic and help me look for _something_ that can help us!"

He followed me without anywhere arguments. I knocked on Malloy's door. No one answered. I pushed out the door and found the cluttered office abandoned.

"He must be out getting the workers out of there," Rickers figured.

I nodded and walked over to his desk. I leafed through the mound of papers, looking for the day's date.

"What are you doing?" Rickers snapped. "If he comes in here and catches you, we'll all be kicked out of here."

"I don't care." I kept looking. Bills and statements, ships' names and origins, past container inventories, where the cargo was going to go . . . Nothing seemed to be helping when I saw a bright red circle around one of the inventory containers.

I pulled out the paper and inspected it. It was an inventory list of a shipment from . . . two days ago. I offered the paper to Rickers.

"Do you think Jigsaw left that mark?" he asked.

I shrugged. "Could and couldn't. We could check it out."

"It says, 'Container number X74832.' Apparently, it's still in the yard."

"Then let's go check it."


	28. Container Number X74832

Chapter Twenty Eight: Container Number X74832

**Maria's POV**

We tracked down Malloy at one of the crane sites. Most of the workers stood around it, some angry and wanting to get back to their work, others not really caring what they did. Malloy tried to play it cool, ignoring us as he continued to talk to the other guys.

"Malloy, we need a container," Rickers said.

"There's plenty of 'em out here," he answered with a sneer.

"Stop being a jackass," I snapped. "We need the container X74832."

"Why?"

"Just find it."

"Look, I'm lettin' you guys poke through my shipyard, but I'm not your damn servant!"

I grabbed his collar angrily. "_You_ look, Malloy! This shipyard has a container that we need! You don't help us find it, and I'll make sure you're the ones paying for whatever happens! Now, find that stupid container and quit trying to show off!"

I let him go with a shove. He attempted to regain himself, adjusting his shirt and clearing his throat.

"Which container is it?" he asked calmly.

"X74832," I said, having the number memorized.

"All right, area X is Harrison's crane field. I'll see if he's around . . ."

"I'm right here, boss," a gruff voice called from the back.

Harrison moved in front of the rest of the workers and looked at Rickers and me.

"What's the big deal about that container?" he asked.

I rolled my eyes at Rickers. "Why do they always ask that? We just need it, okay? Is it still in the yard?"

"Yeah, actually, I think I was movin' that one for deport tomorrow."

"Lead us to it, pal," Rickers said, gesturing.

Harrison led us to loading dock X. Mattix and the forensics team were on the other side of the yard, still combing through. Rickers said it was better to have them keep working than stop them. If the container was a dead-end, no time would be lost.

We stopped in the middle of the dock and looked at Harrison.

"Where's 74832?" I asked.

He pointed above us. A large container swung slowly to and fro on the crane's chains. I squinted to see the side of it. I noticed some black markings, but they were too far away to read.

"You left it up there?" Rickers asked, raising his hand to block the sun from his eyes.

Harrison shrugged. "Boss said to leave everything as is. I was moving it when he gave the call, so I left it up there. These cranes are top line. They can hold somethin' like that no problem."

"Bring it down."

He got into the crane's control cab and careful lowered the container down. It hit the dock with a thump, making the boards shake beneath us. Rickers drew his gun. I looked at him.

"You gotta be joking," I said. "You think Jigsaw's sitting in there?"

"No," he said defensively. "But who knows what the hell he put in it. Draw yours, too."

We walked up to the container so I could finally see the writing on the side. _There's a special prize inside_. I read it aloud and Rickers scoffed.

"He makes it sound like it's a frickin' kids' cereal box or something."

We walked around to the doors and listened. There was no sound or movement. We eased the doors opened and pointed our guns in . . . Nothing but darkness. I sighed heavily and pushed one door open as far as it could. A thin shaft of sunlight shown into the nearly empty container.

There were about twenty boxes, but nothing else. I groaned and kicked one of the boxes.

"Wait," Rickers demanded. He held up a hand for emphasis.

"What?" I asked angrily.

"Remember the message outside? _There's a special prize inside_."

"So?"

"Maybe there's something in the boxes."

I looked at him questioningly. Nonetheless, I reached down and tore tape away from the top of the box. I opened the flaps and looked in. Packing peanuts. I pulled all of them out and felt around. Nothing.

"An entire box of packing peanuts?" I growled, tossing the box aside.

"Come on, Midge," Rickers said as he went for another box.

We tore them apart, looking for a clue or something. I found about forty years worth of packing peanuts before Rickers suddenly called to me. I went over to the box he was opening and looked in.

It was a digital timer, blinking lime green. It had _45:36:15_ on it.

"What's it reading?" I asked.

"It's counting down," Rickers explained. "See? 12 seconds, 11 . . . The 36 is your minutes and 45 must be . . . hours, I think. That's how long we have to find what we're looking for."

"Then what are we looking for?"

He dug deeper into the box and felt around. He pulled out another note and offered it to me.

"You tell me."

A/N: I'm sorry about the cliffhangers, seriously! I had this whole thing planned out and then I didn't get time to write it! Oh, well, until next time!


	29. Where in the World is Adam?

Chapter Twenty Nine: Where in the World is Adam?

**Adam's POV**

I inhaled sharply again, gasping for air. I was drowning, I was going to die . . . I was on a cold metal floor. I inhaled again, nearly gagging from a foul smell coming from close by. Tears came to my eyes. I blinked forcefully, but saw nothing but darkness.

It was pitch black. I coughed, the smell sticking to my throat and lungs. I continued coughing. Where the hell was I? I sat up and covered my mouth with my arm. Well, at least I could move.

I remembered being back in the maze. I felt my right hand with my left one. Each was bandaged expertly. I touched the back of my head, where I had struck the ground. That was bandaged, too.

"What the fuck is going on?" I asked aloud.

I squinted into the darkness, my eyes slightly adjusted. A dark shape was a short distance away from me. I edged toward it and realized the smell was coming from it. I recognized the smell, I just didn't want to admit how close I was to it.

It was rotting flesh. The smell of death. Zep's bashed-in head came to my thoughts and I felt my stomach turn. What was I doing here?

Of course, it was Jigsaw again. How could I not forget?

"What are you doing?" I called.

"Good morning, Adam," Jigsaw's voice came with its usual edge of laughter. "I hope your head is feeling a little better."

"Where am I?"

"You're in a coffin. Which is where you should be, but you've managed to escape your fate again and again. Now, we'll see if you really invincible."

I inhaled again at the word "coffin." That led me into a coughing fit because of the decomposing body beside me.

"Ah, I see you've met your roommate," Jigsaw said. "If you'll examine his face, I believe you'll be in for a surprise. Find your footing."

"What the hell does that mean?" I snapped angrily.

I kicked my feet and felt something move. I could barely move in the small space, a fit of claustrophobia was setting in. I finally found the rolling object at my feet and push it up with my foot. I reached down and pulled it up the rest of the way.

It was a small flashlight. I flipped it on and felt my eyes burn in the beam of light. I had it pointed up into my face. I moved it away and blinked the spots away. Slowly I directed it toward the body beside me.

The first thing I recognized was the thin scar on his chin. He always said how proud he was that he got it in a bar brawl when he was a teenager. Then, his nose, identical to mine, prodded from his face. I stopped at his eyes, clouded and sunken in to his skull. They used to be the same color mine were. The dark hair with flecks of gray still grew from his scalp.

My "roommate" was my father. And he had been dead for three years.

**A/N:** Okay, guys, this chapter really has nothing to do with the story at this point, though it does hint where Adam is . . . or maybe it doesn't. Who knows? Heck, I'm the author and I don't even know! Anyway, I just kind of missed Adam and I wanted to assure all of you that he _is_ alive. I'm not pullin' your leg! Until next time!


	30. The Second Clue

Chapter Thirty: The Second Clue

**Maria's POV**

I took the paper and looked at it cautiously.

_PIck aNd choosE. From mInE to yours, Love Does GROw. Very soon we'll bE HIdden, Gone forever. Here Within, A secret we'll alwaYs keep. Never patIent, constaNtly away. oh, my littlE maria, where is the day? time . . . is running out._

"Well, either he's horrible at grammar or something's up," Rickers said evenly.

"Come on, let's get out of here," I muttered. "Bring the timer with us."

"Do you think it's a trap, too?"

"No, he's having too much fun with this to blow us up. Let's go."

Rickers picked up the time and we hopped out of the container. I thanked Harrison for his time and started to walk toward the forensics team that was still combing the area. Mattix was on a power trip again, demanding orders and snapping at "stragglers." I rolled my eyes at Rickers as we came up.

"We're done here, Mattix," I said. "We found what we need."

"Not quite," Mattix answered coolly.

"What do you mean by that? Adam isn't here and there's no sign of Jigsaw . . ."

"Of course not, but it seems the shipyard has more to hide."

"Shut the hell up and tell me what's going on, Mattix."

"Malloy has a drug ring here. We found four containers containing a suspicious white substance in bulk amounts. We're taking some samples into the lab to test it, but we're going to arrest Malloy under suspicion."

I rolled my eyes again. "Oh, come on. You actually think the guy would've let us search the place if he knew that there were drug containers around."

"Well, he could use it to act innocent. I'm gonna get this guy."

"Whatever, then you guys deal with it."

I went off to Rickers's car and got in. He soon followed, easing himself into the driver's seat. He looked at me expectantly.

"You should really go back to the hospital," he said quietly.

"Take me home," I answered. "I just need to go home for a while."

"All right, kid. But I'm getting the surveillance team out there with you."

"Fine, I just want to go home."

We were silent the whole way back. The note haunted me in my mind, looming over everything else. It had to mean something. We arrived at my house. I got out slowly, my knee aching again. Rickers took one side of me and helped me walk to the door. I unlocked it and let go of my godfather.

"You sure you're all right here, kid?" he asked.

"Of course," I answered, forcing a smile. "Could I have that timer?"

He gave me a look before offering it to me. "Okay, I'm going to stay outside until the car gets here. Then I expect a call from you in the morning."

"You can bet on it. Night, Rickers."

"Night, Midge." He pulled me into a strong hug, squeezing me gently.

He walked back outside and left me alone. I limped to the kitchen and grabbed a beer. After plopping down at the table, I opened the note. I stared at it for the longest time, looking at the randomly capitalized letters.

_PIck aNd choosE. From mInE to yours, Love Does GROw. Very soon we'll bE HIdden, Gone forever. Here Within, A secret we'll alwaYs keep. Never patIent, constaNtly away. oh, my littlE maria, where is the day? time . . . is running out._

I looked at the timer as it continued blinking in that irritating green color. _41:57:09 _continued to count down. Damn Jigsaw . . . I suddenly had the idea. I grabbed a pen and paper. I looked at the note again and began writing the capital letters.

_PINEFIELDGROVEHIGHWAYNINE._

I squinted at them. I could see some words in them. I wrote them down again, this time spacing them out.

_P . . . I . . . N . . . E . . . F . . . I . . . E . . . L . . . D . . . G . . . R . . .O . . .V . . .E . . . H . . . I . . .G . . . H . . . W . . . A . . . Y . . . N . . . I . . . N . . . E._

That made it even harder to read. My head pounded and my eyes began to blur. I was too tired for this. I stood and slowly went to my room to lie down. I dozed off in my bed, half-asleep and half-conscious fits coming and going.

Then, I saw him again. Well, at least I thought I did. My father was standing in my doorway, talking to my in his deep, comforting voice.

"Come on, Maria," he said softly. "You know what that place is."

"I can't go back, Dad," I answered weakly. "It hurts."

"I know, kiddo, but you have to. You remember where I am. That's where you need to go."

"But you're right here. You're alive."

He shook his head. When he spoke again, his voice sounded like it was down a long tunnel.

"You know where I am, Maria. Go . . ."

I jumped awake, breathing heavily. I looked to my doorway and saw it empty. He was gone. I knew where he was . . . I just, I couldn't go there. I walked back to the dark dining room. I flipped on my ceiling fan, the light blinding me temporarily. I looked at the letters I had written down from the note.

Now I knew what it said. _Pine Field Grove- Highway Nine_. It was the cemetery where my father had been buried. Now, it could be where Adam was, too.

**A/N:** Sorry I took forever to update, guys! I've been having a rough week at school and I'm lacking in the sleep department! But I hope the chapter was good and I'll update as soon as I can! Later, guys!


	31. Phone Calls, Again

Chapter Thirty One: Phone Calls, Again

**Maria's POV**

I called Rickers at 4:45, unable to wait any longer. I couldn't sleep the rest of the night after my dream. I couldn't stop thinking about Adam, of course, I never did, but this time I was panicked. If he was in a cemetery somewhere, that was definitely a bad sign.

I waited forever for Rickers to answer his phone. He answered groggily. "What?" he demanded.

"Wake up, sunshine," I said. "I know where we have to go."

"What are you talking about?"

"The note. I know where it's telling us to go. How soon can you get here?"

"Maria . . . It's not even light out yet. If we have to search through the place, we need to see first."

"Fine, be here at 6:30. I'll call Mattix. We'll probably need the forensics team again."

"Fine. I'll be there later."

I hung up and called the station. Harper's chiming voice rang in my ear. It always made me jump.

"Hey, Harp," I said. "Can you patch me through to Mick, please?"

"Be careful, Maria," Harper sighed. "He's on a rant this morning."

"And that makes me the last person he wants to talk to. Thanks for the heads-up."

I waited momentarily as he Commissioner came on the line.

"Cassidy, where the hell have you been?" he snapped immediately. "I called the hospital and they said you pushed an early release. I called your cell phone a million times and there was no answer! Even Rickers is ignoring my calls!"

"Sorry, Mick," I answered calmly. "We had to look into some things."

"Some _things_? If this has _anything_ to do with the Jigsaw cases, you are to inform me about anything."

"I know, how long have I been on these cases?"

"You're making them personal, Cassidy! I can't let a cop be on a case that will effect them emotionally. It'll corrupt your work."

"No, I can handle it."

"Is that so? Then why are you avoiding the commissioner, aka your boss, in order to go on with an investigation without consent? If I remember correctly, that goes against everything in this field."

"Mick, I know I'm slipping by you, but you have to trust me on this. Right now, I'm the only one that has the closest connection to Jigsaw. I can get him, I know I can. You just have to let me go with it."

The line was quiet for a time until Mick sighed heavily. "Damn it, you're lucky you're your dad's kid."

I smiled to myself. "I know. Listen, I need Mattix's forensics number."

"He's not in for now."

"What? That guy's in the station by four every morning."

"Not today, he's suspended. He and his team arrested Malloy, the shipyard boss on Pier 86, for drug transport. Only problem is, the drug he thought Malloy was transporting was regular baking flour. They thought it could have been cocaine."

I started laughing loudly, not being able to hold it in. "Oh, God, that's hilarious!"

"Yeah, yeah. But Cindy Baur is going to run forensics temporarily. You want me to transfer you over?"

"If you could, thank you."

"Maria, just get this guy and stop all of this, okay?"

"I will, Mick. There's no way in hell he's getting by me this time."

I was transferred over to Cindy's office. I had to fight my giggling as I spoke to her, just thinking of Mattix's face when he found out the "drug ring" was just flour! God, I wished I was there when that happened!

I told her of the clue and where to meet up. I told her to bring any equipment that would help look underground. It was going to be hard, especially with all of the coffins, but we had to try something.

I hung up and went to get ready. I put on an old pair of jeans and a worn-out shirt, perfect for digging in the mud. A girl had to be prepared. I walked out to my dining room table and sat down. It was another hour before Rickers would show.

The phone rang loudly through my house, making me jump. I picked it up immediately, thinking it was Rickers or Cindy again.

"Hello, Maria," Jigsaw said politely.

**A/N:** Sorry, cliff hanger again! I didn't have time to finish it! You'll have to wait, guys! Until next time!


	32. May I Take a Message?

Chapter Thirty Two: "May I Take a Message?"

**Maria's POV**

I froze up as I held the phone.

"You did an excellent job at deciphering my clues," Jigsaw continued. "I'm proud of you. Now, the next question is, can you complete the search in time?"

"What the hell do you want from me?" I asked quietly.

"Oh, nothing of importance. I just believe it's time you understand some things."

"Is Adam alive or not? Stop leading me on a wild goose chase."

"Of course, he's alive. You don't trust me?"

"Hell, no."

He chuckled. "Oh, that attitude. So much like your father."

I was quiet for a time, starting to hyperventilate. "How do you know so much about my family?"

"You'd be surprised, Maria."

Now, tears were coming. "Jigsaw, no more games, please. I just want to find Adam. If you let him go alive, you can do anything you want to me. Just let him go."

"Strange. I believe he said the same thing. You have 36 hours and fourteen minutes. Good luck."

The line cut out.

"No!" I screamed into the receiver. "Jigsaw, goddamn it!"

I slammed the phone down, my anger getting the best of me. I called the station again. Harper answered.

"Harper, do you have a trace of the last call that came to my house?" I demanded.

"I wasn't paying attention," he answered. "Hung on a second . . ."

"Damn it, Harper, there better be a trace!"

"Calm down. What's the matter?"

"Just find the trace!"

"All right, all right . . . There's nothing here, Maria. He must not have been on the line long enough."

"No, check again!"

"Maria . . ."

"Check _again_! There has to be something!"

"The last traceable call was Rickers's number."

_Oh, shit. _"What?"

"The last call was from Rickers. There's no unidentified numbers on the trace list."

I hung up as Harper asked again if I was okay. Rickers didn't call me, I called him . . . _Oh, God,_ I thought to myself._ Oh, God. Please don't be true._

I grabbed my cell phone and dialed Rickers's number. I waited for someone to answer.

"Hello, you've reached Charles Rickers's residence," Jigsaw answered.

"Goddamn you!" I shouted. "Where is he?"

"He's not available at the moment. May I take a message?"

"Yeah, go to hell and fucking rot there, you sick bastard!"

"Oh, tsk, tsk, Maria. Such language."

"Where is he?" I whispered dangerously.

"Go to the cemetery, alone, and you'll get your answers there."

He hung up. I cursed violently as I called the station again. I ignored Harper's questions and told him to transfer me to Cindy Baur's office. Her soft voice came on the line. I fought to hold back my tears as I began to talk.

"Hey, Cindy, it's Maria Cassidy. Look, your forensics team won't need to come out to Pine Field with us."

"What's going on?" she asked, concerned.

I sniffed. "Oh, nothing. Rickers and I are going to scout the area. Just see if there's any apparent clues at first. We, uh, don't want to rip up the cemetery if we don't need to."

"Oh, that's understandable. Just call us if you need help, okay?"

"Sure. Thanks a lot, Cindy."

I hung up again and looked out of the window. The surveillance team was still sitting outside. I walked out and tapped on the driver's side window. Dillmore, a younger cop, rolled down his window and smiled at me.

"Morning," he said. "You still feeling okay?"

"Yeah, fine, thanks," I answered calmly. "I talked to Rickers and he said he would meet me out in Pine Field. I just wanted to spend some alone time with my dad. Do you think you guys could give me a ride out?"

Dillmore was quiet. "You aren't supposed to be unsupervised."

"Come on, Dill. You know what it's like to lose family in the force." His brother was killed in the line of fire when he was on the SWAT team. "Just call it a favor. I'd really owe you one."

"All right, but it won't be too long, right?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you met my godfather? He's with practically every second. He'll show up afterwards."

Dillmore nodded. "All right. Hop in the back."

**A/N:** That's right! A week and a half gone and I'm still going strong! Lol! Hope you liked it and until next time, y'all!


	33. Do You Really Want to Find Them?

Chapter Thirty Three: "Do you Really Want to Find Them?"

**Maria's POV**

Dillmore drove out to the cemetery. I tried to keep my conversation light, but my insides screamed. Jigsaw now had Adam and Rickers, the only family I had left. This was going to end today. I was tired of the bullshit games. I was ready for it to end . . .

"So, how have you been, Maria?" Dillmore asked, glancing in the rearview at me.

"Best I can be, I suppose," I answered quietly.

"I heard about losing your Jigsaw witness. I'm sorry."

"Yeah, me, too."

The car finally turned on to the road in the cemetery, bumping roughly as it ran over the gravel. I watched the headstones in the soft morning light. We passed about four plots before I told Dillmore to stop.

"Thanks a lot, guys," I said as I got out.

"You sure you're okay out here, Maria?" he asked.

I winked at him. "Aw, Dill, thanks for worrying, but I'll be fine."

He smiled. "All right. Just give us a call when Rickers gets here. We'll go back and keep an eye on your house."

"Thanks."

I waved at them as they left the cemetery. I walked past a few more headstones before I stopped at one. I knelt down and traced the letters engraved in the stone.

_Horatio Scott Cassidy_

_A great father, a loyal son, and one fine cop_

"Hey, Dad," I said quietly, tears starting to form almost immediately. "I miss you. And thanks for your help. I could use a lot more of it, though. What's going on here? I just want to know what happened to Adam. And now Rickers . . . yeah, he caught the old bear as if he were just a kid. I need him back, too."

I wiped my eyes stubbornly and sniffed. "C'mon, Dad. Give me something, anything. Just . . . help me one more time."

"Pity, isn't it?" a deep voice said behind me. "Death comes so untimely to some. Horatio was one of those people."

I whirled around and saw him. He watched me with eyes similar to my own. He looked physically weak, but he stood with some much strength, anyway. His smile was thin, almost kindly. The one I had spoke to outside of Adam's room. He seemed so nice, so _innocent_ then. Now I knew who he really was.

"You should know," I snapped angrily. "Taking people's lives as though it was nothing."

"You seem to forget, Maria. I never actually killed them. They created their own demises."

"So they did bad things in their lives! So what?! I guarantee you that every person in this world has sinned, even you. What are you going to do, then? Try to teach them all a lesson before you die? You're going to test every person in the world?"

He chuckled. "No, of course not. That's impossible. Just as many as I can get to before my time is up."

"Why do you do this?"

"I have my reasons."

I stood up angrily. I pulled my gun from my coat pocket. My hand was steady, even though the rest of me was shaking. "Not a good enough answer."

"Don't be irrational, Maria. You know you can't kill me."

"And why not?"

"I am the only one who knows where your godfather and Adam are."

_Shit,_ I cursed myself. I kept my gun pointed at him. "Then where are they?"

"It's not that simple, you see . . ."

"Yes, it is! I've been put through your damn tests since we got Adam out of that room! If you're going to kill me, then do it! Just let Adam and Rickers go!"

"Oh, Maria, there is so much in this world that you don't understand."

I sighed heavily. "Frankly, I don't give a shit. I'll make you a deal. Let those two go and you can have me."

Jigsaw shook his head. "No more deals. Adam attempted the same thing when he was in the maze. He wanted me to spare you. All problem is, when I let you go, he still tried to escape. He is nothing more than a coward, Maria. That is why I chose him in the first place."

"No!" I shouted, cocking my gun. "You think _you_ have the right to call Adam a coward!? Look in the mirror! You're nothing but a withered old man who's afraid to die!"

"And what would you call yourself, Maria?" he asked calmly. "Attempting to kill yourself, you call that heroism? You think hurting yourself will make it all better? You've spent half of your life fantasizing about death. That's all you could do without your father beside you. Tell me, what made you change your mind now?"

I stared at the old man. His body looked as if it could collapse any second, but his eyes never left mine. They were sharp and unnerving, as if he could stare into someone's soul at first glance. I shivered unconsciously.

"I changed my mind years ago. After I tried to kill myself, I realized I still had someone who cared. I had never seen Rickers cry before in my life, but he did that night at the hospital. He didn't know I did it intentionally, he thought I was going to die. He just sat there by my bed and cried. That's when I woke up. Since then, I've never wanted to die."

He shook his head. "The mind is always more truthful than the mouth. I can tell by the look in your eyes. You do not care what happens to you. You just want to have me killed."

"Of course, I want you killed," I snapped. "I could care less if we take you in as a suspect or not. I would love to kill you right here and now."

"And why won't you?"

"Because I have control over my emotions. Because I am not a murderer. And you're the only one who knows where Adam and Rickers are."

He chuckled dryly. "Oh, yes, I almost forgot about them."

"Enough of this. Where are they?"

"First you have to answer one question. Do you really want to find them?"

My mouth dropped open and all I could utter was one word. "_What?_"

**A/N:** Guys, I'm SO sorry this took so long to post! My stupid school changed their Surf Control thing, so now I can't even make it through to my profile page! I'll be updating as much as I can through my relatives' computers, but I have no idea when it'll be. Sorry again, but keep reviewing. I really appreciate 'em. Bye, guys! Hopefully I'll update soon!


	34. Conversations With Dad

**A/N:** Okay, here's the next chapter. It's taking forever to post now! Anyhoo, I just missed Adam again, so I thought I should put him in the limelight for a bit. Enjoy the chapter and review if you got the time! Thanks, people! Later!

Chapter Thirty Four: Conversations With Dad

**Adam's POV**

I gagged again as I struggled to inhale. I turned away and fought to keep from throwing up. I sat up slowly and reached up. My elbows were barely unbent, just over my head, and my palms were pressing against the cold metal ceiling.

It was like a coffin Houdini would break himself out of. Well, damn it for not looking into the magician career. Maybe then I would get out of that damn thing.

I lifted up the flashlight and moved it around, trying to avoid my "roommate." The coffin was rusted in some places, but it seemed to have no other break points. Finally, I forced myself to look back at my father.

"Well, Billy, I guess this means it's time we talk," I muttered. I continued moving the flashlight around as I talked. "Seeing how we never did when I was a kid. You never approved of me; you beat Mom like a damn rag doll. And you never cared. Then you get into drugs. I'm not surprised, actually. Mom said you loved it when you were flyin' high.

"But you killed a guy. Afraid you would get busted with your stash? Hell, maybe you just enjoyed it. You're probably no different than the fucker who put me in here with you."

I sighed heavily and shook my head. I was talking to goddamn dead body. Who does that? I turned away from him again, trying to think of something to do. Suddenly, I remembered Jigsaw's words. _Find your footing._

I moved the flashlight to look down at my feet. It looked pretty much the same, but I stared at it for a time. I noticed it in the corner. One little spot on the side that looked weaker than the rest. It was rusted through, so . . .

I pounded my feet into the metal. I cursed loudly as my feet began to throb.

"Okay, didn't think that through," I grumbled, rubbing my foot. "Where the hell can I break it?"

I looked around and glanced at the body beside me. I reached over and cautiously patted the clothing, feeling for any metal, paper . . . anything that might help me out.

"Come on, old man," I grumbled as I dug through one of his pockets. "Don't hold out on me."

I carefully tilted him to the side and checked his back pockets. A small key was in the bottom of one of the pockets. I pulled it out and felt and almost kissed the guy. That made me a little sick.

"Thank you, Pops," I sighed.

I moved the flashlight around, hoping to find anything with a keyhole. Of course, I wasn't that lucky. I swept over the small area again, grumbling to myself. I stopped for a second and the light flipped off.

I shook the flashlight forcefully. It flickered and died again.

"You gotta be kidding me!!" I screamed, slamming it against the side wall. "Come on, goddamn it!"

I pounded it against the wall again, but it didn't help. I threw it away from me, down by my feet.

"Fuck!" I yelled again, punching the wall angrily.

I kept screaming and punching for at least a few minutes, not noticing the blood coming from my knuckles as they struck the metal. I finally stopped, feeling the pain erupt from my hands. The cuts on my palms broke open under my bandages. I cursed violently and stared up into the darkness.

I was breathing heavily, my anger getting the best of me. I attempted to calm down, breathing deeply. In my pitiful attempt to calm down, I noticed a shaft of light hitting the wall by my head. It was thin, so I barely noticed it, but it was there.

I looked down, thinking the flashlight managed to come back on . . . It was the rusted spot in the corner. I must've thrown the flashlight at it by accident! It was breaking!

"Wait," I said out loud once again. "If I was actually in a coffin, I wouldn't be able to see light outside of it. I'd be under the ground."

I braced myself and kicked with both feet against it again. It hurt like a bitch, but I kept going. I kicked over and over, tired of the smell my dead father was emitting, tired of the bullshit games this sick maniac was playing on me, tired of never winning, no matter how hard I tried . . .

My feet became numb from the continuous pain, making it slightly easier. What seemed like an eternity later, the steel broke away bit by bit, leaving the bottom open enough for me to crawl out.

I looked to the body beside me. "Well, Dad, it's been nice. I think this is the most I've talked to you in my whole life. Now, I'm getting the fuck outta here."

I braced my hands against the wall above me, sitting up as I carefully push out my legs. I lied flat and then pushed my torso through; thankfully, I was still thinned out from the bathroom. My feet touched a floor as I wriggled to rest of my body out of the small space.

I blinked several times, trying to make my eyes adjust to the harsh light. I looked around . . . I was in Jigsaw's warehouse, his desk with all of his papers, the box diagram of the bathroom. I was back in his "office."

Only question was, what the hell was I doing there?


	35. Alone

Chapter Thirty Five: Alone

**Maria's POV**

Jigsaw merely smiled at my shocked expression. I was frozen to place, not sure if I could move or say anything. He shook his head and walked by me. He patted my father's tombstone, then ran his fingers over the letters.

"Don't--don't touch him," I whispered. I was so quiet, I wasn't sure if I could hear myself.

He straightened up as I turned to face him again.

"Still protective of him, I see," he said thoughtfully. "He always did the same for you. I was always surprised at the kind of connection you had with him. There are so many families that don't truly love the ones they bring into the world. It's amazing."

"I don't give a shit what you think you know about my family," I snapped. "You have no right to even speak his name."

"No right, hmm? Oh, Maria, you have to understand."

I felt tears come to my eyes. "What don't I understand? Why is my life so important to you? This just isn't your style. You don't torment people with messages and clues. Why change what you've done? Why do you let yourself be seen so easily now?"

"This test is a bit more . . . personal then my others. In all reality, my other subjects really meant nothing to me. I just wanted to see if they had any thread of the survival instinct left within their worthless bodies. There is so much more to your story, Maria. I had to see if you were ready."

"For what, goddamn it?!" I screamed, tears now streaming down my face.

"You realize you have yet to answer my question."

He met my eyes again, boring into my core. I looked at him squarely, knowing that if he could see right through me, he would know my answer. Of course I wanted to find Adam and Rickers. They were all I had left. I had to find them, I just had to . . .

He nodded, seeing my answer. "You're ready. Now, I promise you that there will be no more games, no more threats, from here on. Charles and Adam will appear to you unharmed if you promise me one thing."

"I don't have to promise you shit."

"You know as well as I do that's not true. I control everything in this game, my dear. You do have a choice, but if you make the wrong one, you will never see your loved ones again."

I looked away from him. Damn him. I wanted nothing more then to put a bullet through his sick heart. No, in his leg, then his other leg, then his arms . . . I wanted to see him to die slowly, painfully. A sort of sweet revenge for every one of his "subjects" that didn't make it. He deserved a bullet for every one that died because of his "games." He deserved it . . .

I put my gun away, though my heart was screaming for me to kill him. He nodded again, as if he knew what I was going to do before he even presented the question.

"Good," he said with an almost proud tone. "I promise all will be explained. I'll take you to my office and we'll have a talk."

I reluctantly followed him, glancing at my father's headstone. I closed my eyes temporarily. _Please, Dad. Please help me._ As we walked to a car, I knew that wasn't going to happen. My father couldn't help me, Rickers couldn't. I was alone now. And I guess I just had to deal with it. I just hoped I was ready.


	36. Maybe

Chapter Thirty Six: Maybe

**Adam's POV**

I rubbed my feet until the pain mostly went away. I just sat on the surprisingly clean floor, looking around. I must've been in shock because I didn't move for a good fifteen minutes, at least that was what it felt like. I kept asking why I was there. I should've been dead.

Maybe I was just dreaming. Maybe I was still in the bathroom, chained to the fucking pipe next to Zep's stinking body and Lawrence's foot across the room. I was dreaming all of this. As soon as I woke up, I would realize all of it wasn't real. I would die in that room. Even my dreams had to mess with me.

Maybe I was in Purgatory, that place where your soul went if your life was incomplete. It just a really shitty ending for a really shitty life. Only problem was, it wouldn't really end. I would just relive it over and over again for eternity. My punishment was to stay in this shitty life forever, reliving every mistake and none of the good memories I had. Oh, God was fuckin' hilarious sometimes.

Maybe I was having a bad flashback. I didn't really do drugs, just smoked like a chimney. But my buddy Scott always did shit like that with the band before I was kidnapped. I was just on a really bad second-hand trip. Nothing of what happened was real. Lawrence, the bathroom, Jigsaw, Maria . . . None of it really happened; I just had to wait until I came back down from whatever got into my system. I would wake up on Scott's mom's couch as always, like when we were in high school.

Maybe I had a really bad fever. Like a typhoon fever or something. I thought I read somewhere that you could hallucinate when you had a virus.

Maybe I had mad-cow disease. I had no idea what the hell it did to you, but it could happen. I remembered it from the news.

Maybe I got e-coli. I hadn't cleaned my fridge out in a while. I didn't have the money to go shopping every weekend. Food poisoning might be a hallucinogen. I made a mental note to look into that later.

Maybe it was bird-flu. Something like that could make you loopy, right?

Maybe I was just dreaming of everything period. I was still asleep in my darkroom. I would just wake up and go on with my life. Maybe I would see that pretty girl that smiled at me when I left the building the night before. Maybe I would get all of my money from "Bob" and not have to worry about spying on that doctor. I didn't even know his name at the time. Maybe I never would . . .

Maybe I would wake up in my high school days, when I was 16 or so, and I would be able to fix whatever was wrong with me. Maybe I could go back and make something out of myself. I would go to college like Mom wanted me to, tell my dad where he could stick it and stand up for my mother, get out of that hell hole of a family home, actually go to class and try, talk to Maria and ask her out to the movies or something . . .

Maybe I could change everything. I would try to this time.

I clutched my head for a while, trying to slow down my swirling thoughts. Maybe I was just a freakin' idiot. All of this around was real, taunting me, telling me just how stupid I sounded. I had no way out and no way to get a hold of Maria, not even Rickers. I was just stuck here, waiting for my life to be decided by some old, dying psychopath. Yep, I had everything going for me.

I wallowed in self-pity for a good amount of time before I heard it. I looked around, thinking my sense of hearing had gone wacko. I stood up, straining my ears. It was crying, no, screaming. Muffled and barely audible, but I knew it was a person.

I walked slowly around the room, pausing every other step to see if it was any closer. I stopped near the monitors that looked into the maze. I leaned toward the wall behind it. The screaming was more distinctive, a man for sure. I pushed the monitors' stand to the side and looked around. I saw no breaks in the wall. How the hell?

I pressed against the walls every inch. I pressed at one spot and felt the plaster cave easily. I threw an elbow into it, making it crack and breaking away. I broke a good portion off until I saw a door handle. I turned it and pushed against it. Nothing happened.

"Shit," I grumbled.

I pushed harder and harder, but it didn't even budge. I was about to give up when I heard a loud grunt on the other side. A heavy weight struck the bottom of the door. It jerked in my direction. It was a pull door! Wow, I felt like a dumbass, but I was so glad the guy bound up in there had more sense than I did.

I pulled the door open as much as I could; it hit the plaster I hadn't knocked all of the way out yet. I peered into the small crack of the opening. It was pitch-black, but I looked down at the floor. I couldn't clearly see the guy, but his bulky form told me enough.

"Rickers?" I asked.

He nodded, the tape over his mouth catching the light. I started to pull more plaster away, trying to get him out. I was about half-way there when the door to the stairs swung open. I jumped back away from the door, grabbing a large hunk of plaster.

_Great defense weapon, genius_, I said to myself. I told myself to shut up. I had no choice and I was ready to fight whoever was coming in if I had to . . .

**A/N:** Yay, getting over writer's block!! I FINALLY updated again. Thanks for still reading, guys. I appreciate it since I still can't find a way on here very often! More as soon as I can! Thanks for the reviews, too!


	37. Reunion

Chapter Thirty Seven: Reunion

**Maria's POV**

Jigsaw had a car. That kind of surprised me. I kind of wondered if he pinched anything from people's wallets after he killed them . . . Wouldn't have shocked me at that point. After minutes of silent driving, he stopped by a warehouse that looked nearly identical to one the that maze was in. But the address was different . . .

"My home away from home, if you will," Jigsaw smiled at me before stepping out of the car.

He walked around to the other side of the car and opened the door for me. I got out slowly, trying to figure out what he had up his sleeve. I looked around at the warehouse again and then at him. He started walking toward the side of the warehouse. I slowly followed, still not sure what the hell to take on all of it.

He held open a side door, gesturing chivalrously. "Ladies first, if you will."

"I don't get it," I finally said. I stopped beside him, looking at him. "The warehouse was totally cleaned out when the group went to check it . . ."

He chuckled. "Oh, that's not very difficult. You see, I have multiple locations around the city."

"So that's why you're so damn hard to track."

He nodded. "Never stay in one place. That's where several have faltered before me. Now, if you will, Miss Maria."

I stepped through on to a long platform, a simple set of metal stairs at the end. Only two lights were suspended above the platform, so there was a gap of darkness in between them and after them, descending down into the stairs. Jigsaw slipped past me and led the way, going down the stairs immediately. I followed him again, becoming impatient with all of his dramatics involved in his "offices." He had some elaborate way to get there every time.

He opened a door at the bottom slightly and turned to look at me. "I hope you'll excuse the mess," he explained. "I wasn't expecting visitors so soon."

He held the door open for me again. I stepped past him, still not sure what to expect. I suddenly jumped back, sensing something. A large hunk of wall winged by the open doorway, just barely missing me. I whirled around and looked at Jigsaw.

He was actually laughing. I looked back at the doorway as a figure stepped in. He was panting heavily, gripping a piece of plaster as if his life depended on it. His hands were bloodied and bandaged, a hunk of gauze prodding from the back of his head. His eyes were dark and stormy-looking, as though he was ready to kill anything and everything in his path . . . But it was Adam. It was my Adam, alive and crazy-looking as hell, but still alive.

"You fucking son of a bitch!" he shouted. "I'll fucking kill you!"

He almost went to swing, but stopped with the piece of plaster held high over his head. He blinked and squinted, focusing on me. Despite the situation, I felt a smile spread across my face. He stepped back into the room obviously confused. Jigsaw followed him in and I came in after him.

"Now, Adam, that's not a nice way to greet your guest," he said as he walked by him.

Adam, however, didn't seem to notice him. He stared at me in total disbelief. He looked me up and down, as if to make sure it was really me and that I was real. I smiled wider, feeling tears immediately spring from my eyes. He was here, right in front of me . . . He was _alive_.

"Maria?" he asked slowly, still studying me.

I felt tears slip down my cheeks, but I didn't care. "Adam," I said softly.

"Sorry to break this picture perfect moment here," a gruff voice snapped from the other side of the room. "But a little assistance would be great."

I looked away from Adam and saw Rickers, bound, but also alive. He was half-way out of a door that was once encased in plaster, half of his body sticking out from the small-sized opening the door had for him to squeeze through. Jigsaw was moved away from him, but was crumpling up what looked like electrical tape and tossing it into a waste bin by a desk littered with papers.

Adam and I walked over, tearing away the rest of the plaster away from the door. Once enough was out of the way, Rickers tumbled out of the door, landing heavily on the floor. He cursed violently as Adam and I went to untie him.

"I thought both of you were dead," I sighed, feeling a fresh wave of tears coming to push again the back of my eyes. "I thought I would never see you again."

"I thought I was dead when I woke up," Rickers grumbled as he rubbed his wrists slowly. "It was just pitch black. But then I felt my arms were behind my back taped, and I thought that was a nasty ass trick to play on a cop for an eternity. Have them bound up."

The three of us stayed huddled together after Rickers was completely free for a long moment, watching Jigsaw. He occupied himself at the desk, organizing some of the papers littering the surface. I hugged Rickers quickly and then kissed Adam on the cheek (dirty and bloodied cheek, but I didn't care.).

"Jigsaw," I said slowly, unsure of how to get his attention.

He looked up at me and then over at Rickers and Adam, as if noticing us for the first time.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said, a slight smirk pulling up one side of his mouth. "I wanted you three to have your reunion moment. Are you finished?"

I shook my head. "Yes. Now, is there a reason that you brought me here?"

"Of course," he answered simply. He rummaged through the papers, picking one up and examining it. He didn't look up. "I just thought getting those two out would take a bit longer. I didn't expect them to get freed so easily."

"Easily?" Rickers and Adam practically shouted in unison.

"I was in a fucking _coffin_, with my dead father, you sick fuck!" Adam snapped.

"I was gagged and bound in a goddamn encased room!" Rickers said angrily.

"Exactly," Jigsaw said, still not looking up from his papers. "I made them easy for you."

He offered some of the papers to me. I took them and nearly dropped them when I realized what they were.

**A/N**: And I'm back! Sorry about the wait, guys, a little overwhelmed with the first week of college, but I got it up! Yay! Reviews are great, thank you again. Hope you enjoyed it and more to come, I promise, now that I have UNLIMITED INTERNET ACCESS!!!! Whoo hoo!


	38. The Truth

Chapter Thirty Eight: The Truth

**Maria's POV**

I looked up at Jigsaw, then back down to what I held. A copy of my birth certificate, baby pictures of a dark-haired pudgy little thing, one I recognized to be me from pictures back at home, a young, healthy verison of my father holding that little baby, beaming down at the little person he held, another of a beautiful dark-haired, half-Latino woman holding the same baby, not looking nearly as happy as my father was, a man standing beside her bed, leaning over and looking down at me . . .

I looked back up at Jigsaw, back down the picture. _No_, I thought desperately. _No, it can't be._ I continued looking through the pictures. Another with just the man holding me, obviously talking to me. Another with the man and a Latino woman I had never seen before, both of them posing in front of the camera, smiling. They were all so happy . . .

"What the hell is this?" I asked, tears coming to my eyes. I held up the photo of the man and the little baby. "Who is that?"

"Your grandfather," Jigsaw answered. "The other one with that woman is your grandmother. Your mother's parents."

I didn't want to believe it. No, he had to have stolen them for my house, from my dad, from my mother after he _killed_ her. "How did you get these?"

Jigsaw was silent, looking down at the papers on his desk.

"Nothin' to say, huh?" I sniffed loudly, trying to get ahead of my emotions. "How did you get these?"

Still nothing. Rickers and Adam didn't make a sound. A flaming, boiling rage welled up inside of my chest, spilling out through my eyes. I threw the papers and photos at the old man. I was sobbing uncontrollably. I dropped to my knees, among the papers littering the floor now. Jigsaw looked down at me now, watching me with a twinge of sadness in his eyes.

"Answer me!" I sobbed. "Answer me . . ."

"They're mine," he answered, bending to pick a photo up. The one of my grandfather and grandmother holding me. "I was there the day you were born."

"You fucking liar!" I screamed. "Don't fucking lie to me! You goddamn liar!"

Arms wrapped around my shoulders, but I didn't notice who it was. I didn't care. My whole life, I wondered who my family was . . . I wanted so badly to know where my mother came from, where _I_ came from. And the answer was here, littered on the floor in front of me, the withering old man that stood so calmly next to his desk, that fucking psychopath that destroyed countless people's lives, including mine . . .

"No," I whispered. I looked up at him, my anger taking over everything. "NO!! You're lying!"

"Oh, Maria, you know better than that," he said softly. "Sometimes I do wish that was true, but you know better."

"My mother, Teresa Cassidy, you killed her."

He shook his head. "I tested her, sweet. She had to be tested."

"She was your _daughter_!" Adam suddenly broke in. I looked over and realized he was the one holding me. "How could you do something like that to your flesh and blood?"

Jigsaw continued to study the picture he held, tracing my grandmother's face tenderly. "She needed to be tested. She failed. She didn't deserve her life."

"How could you?" I sobbed.

"She looked everything like your grandmother," he said with a small smile, studying that picture as if he would never see it again. "Everything but the eyes. She managed to get my eyes, though how that happened, we may never know. We thought Kay's dark eyes were more dominant." He paused briefly. "She looked everything like Kay, but held none of her spirit. Kay was such a strong woman, willing to do whatever it took to take care of her family. Never leaving anyone behind, no matter how hard it became.

"That's why she was so heart-broken when Teresa deserted you. Left you with Horatio as though you were a stray dog. She disappeared that night. It killed her. It killed my Kay. She was gone for seven years before I found out I had cancer . . . And that was when I knew, I knew what I was meant to do. And I knew that Teresa was to be my first test subject."

"I know she did wrong," I whispered, sinking against Adam, who still held on to me. "I know she wasn't perfect. But she was your _daughter_. How could you do something like that to her?"

Jigsaw shook his head. "It is the fabric of survival, of pure instinct that isn't in the human race anymore. It's difficult to explain to people who aren't willing to understand it. It was difficult, true, but it had to be done."

"Then why were you testing me?" I demanded, straightening up again as my anger got to me. "Why save Adam just to put him through more tests? Why do any of it?"

"Adam, I believe you can explain better than I could," Jigsaw said.

I looked at Adam. He looked to the floor, purposely not meeting my eyes. I put my hand under his chin and turned his face to face me. He finally met my eyes, a deep sadness showing through his. I looked at him in silence for a long moment.

"Adam," I said quietly.

He broke my gaze, looking down to the ground again.

"Adam, what is it?" I asked. "Tell me."

"My father . . . killed your father," he muttered. "He shot him when he and Rickers went on that drug bust. He was a dealer . . . I never knew it. It's his fault you went through all of that when you were 16."

I stared at him in shock. "What?"

"We knew each other around that time . . . Or, we at least went to the same school, anyway. It was around the time you almost died. It was a little bit after your dad died . . ."

I moved away from him, starting to tear up. I knew it wasn't his fault. There was no way I could blame him for it, but . . . The man that I loved, his father . . . killed mine? Adam didn't look at me. I looked over at Jigsaw.

"You knew all of this?" I asked. "You knew this whole time?"

"After I did some research, yes," Jigsaw answered simply. "As I told you back at the cemetery, it was an untimely death for your father. Neither of you deserved what happened. But it was how you reacted to that tragedy. Some cope, find ways to make themselves happy again. You, on the other hand, felt that death was the only way to get past such a loss. And why is that?"

It was my turn to look away. Rickers stared at me in shock.

"You . . . you did it on purpose?" he asked.

I never saw so much hurt in his eyes. Not since the day he told me my father was dead, or that day at the hospital when he thought I wouldn't wake up. I felt my tears come again. I never told him because I knew how much it would hurt him. I didn't even want to think about it, but now it was here, and I couldn't bare it. I looked away from him.

"I . . . I didn't know what to do," I answered softly, my voice shaking. "I felt so much pain. I just wanted it to go away. I missed my father so much. He was all I had in this world and he was taken from me. Everything I cared about has been taken from me . . . I just wanted all of it to stop."

I looked up at Jigsaw, who went back to studying the picture. I sniffed, but no more tears came. I stood up, not breaking my gaze on him. He glanced up, again as if he just noticed I was in the room.

"Tell me," I sighed, "tell me this isn't true. Tell me all of this is a lie."

Jigsaw shook his head. "I can't, dear, otherwise _that_ would be a lie. I am John Kramer, your grandfather. Your grandmother died a little bit after your third birthday, completely heart-broken. Adam Faulkner's father killed your father, leaving you to Charles over there, and eventually that led to your suicide attempt. I tested your mother and she failed long ago. I started all of these tests to make those chosen see how valuable their lives are and how they wasted them. And you are one of my last test subjects. That, my dear, is the truth."

**A/N:** Hey, guys. Sorry, this chapter took a little bit longer than I expected. I was having an extensive with myself as to whether Jigsaw should have been married before.

At first I thought he shouldn't, but then I thought, where the hell would Maria's mother have come from? Jigsaw doesn't seem like much a of one-night stand kind of guy. Lol. I thought his character could be the kind of guy that has a broken heart, along with an illness eating away at his body. And I guess how the disappearance and irresponsible behavior of his daughter killed his wife helped him see how much some scoff at others throughout their lives. Seems to make sense.

Anywho, next comin' up . . . as soon as I finish my Humanities homework and then get ready for my philosophy test. But it'll be on here some time, I promise!


	39. The Last Test Subject

Chapter Thirty Nine: The Last Test Subject

**Maria's POV**

"The truth?" I repeated.

My head was swimming. I was looking at the man who was my blood relation, the man I had wished I could have known for years. The man who had my eyes . . . the man who killed my mother. I was disgusted to stand there and look at him. I couldn't look at Adam, knowing his father killed mine. I couldn't looked at Rickers, knowing I broke his heart because of what I did so many years ago. I looked at my feet, not knowing what else to do.

"Yes," Jigsaw answered. He was looking back to the photo of me with my grandmother, the slight creases of a smile on the edges of his mouth. "You look like my Kay. I was glad Horatio asked us to let you have her name."

"What?"

"Your middle name, dear. Maria Karmen Cassidy. Karmen was your grandmother's name. I always called her Kay, ever since we met."

I rubbed my eyes, sighing. "Then why didn't I ever know you? If you were on good terms with my dad, why didn't I ever see you or my grandmother? Did you abandon me, too?"

Jigsaw's usually passive demeanor broke as soon as I asked it. His face crumpled in what look like deep hurt. He looked like he was struggling painfully with something. He cleared his throat and reached over to his desk, riffling through papers.

"He didn't," Rickers said suddenly.

I turned around and looked at him. "What do you mean, Rickers?"

"He never abandoned you, Maria. He was at everything you did, all of your recitals when you were elementary school, your choir in junior high, your theatre performances in high school before your dad was killed . . . He was even at your dad's funeral. He never abandoned you. He was always there."

I looked back to Jigsaw. "And you never tried to see me?"

"I thought anything in reference to your mother you would hate," he said quietly, "including me. Then when Kay died, I didn't know what to do with myself. I became colder, someone I didn't want you to ever know."

"So you mean you don't like who you are now?"

He shook his head. "No, I hated who I was before I found out I had cancer. After Kay died, I saw no point in living. Apparently, I received my wish. As I was going through chemo therapy, as my hope was disappearing because nothing was working, I was reborn. I learned what it was to appreciate my life. Then, as I watched more and more people in the clinic, seeing how much they destroyed their own lives and so many others, I knew what I had to do. I had to make others learn what I did. I had to teach them. And, as you know, your mother was my first. I found her in some run-down apartment building, on drugs and living in complete filth. She could have such a great life with you and your father, but she ruined her own life. She didn't deserve it. I did love my daughter and I always will, but I would never love what she became, scum in the underfoot of society."

"Normally, people decide to live their lives to the fullest before they die," Adam said from the floor. "Can't say I've heard of someone losing their goddamn mind and killing other people."

Jigsaw looked at him questioningly. "And you call how you lived 'living life to the fullest'? In your late 20's with no accomplishments whatsoever, living in a run-down apartment, taking incriminating photos of people and selling them to the highest bidding, not caring what became of those you photographed. Shame, you had a talent behind the lens of a camera."

Adam immediately went quiet, probably remembering Lawrence. Jigsaw shook his head and turned away from all of us. I watched him pace slowly in front of a wall of diagrams and writings he had haphazardly posted on. He stopped and sighed.

"Wait," I said, suddenly remembering, "I thought you said I was your last test subject."

He chuckled. "Oh, yes, I suppose I get side-tracked easily, don't I?" He turned and looked in my direction. "I apologize. Yes, you are to be my last test subject. You see, I've tested the survival instinct multiple times in various ways. All of my subjects had to fight to keep their lives and if they were truly worthy, they made it safely. But there are several other factors I've not gotten a chance to test."

"Like what?"

"Well, there are several things that can kill a person beside physical pain. Emotional pain has been known to kill some, your grandmother included. Even Adam's father, who died with a guilty conscience, and his mother, who died at the hands of sheer terror. Emotions control so much more of us than most want to admit. And most would say that love is the main thing one needs to live. Unconditional love from family, shared love with the person they give their heart to. Love has been internationally known as the greatest of all feelings."

He paused, looking at the three of us in front of us thoughtfully. That cold smirk returned, his lips turned just slightly upwards.

I sighed. "What's your point?"

"Well, it's quite simple, really. Behind you are two men whom you love. Rickers is the man who was your second father, the man who has taken you in no questions asked and has loved you since the day you were born. Young Mr. Faulkner is the man who you gave your heart to, the man who you love as someone to be your 'better half,' so to speak. Now, you must choose who you wish to free and which one to leave behind."

I froze, my jaw dropping open. I felt all of the blood drain from my face in shock. Jigsaw continued calmly, his voice very similar to the tapes he had made for his other tests.

"You will have ten minutes to choose. The man you do not pick will be left here for dead, to die slowly. Which love will you let go and which will you hold on to, Maria? Which love can you live without? I will leave you to your decision, and don't jump to conclusions, there is no way out of this room unless you are with me. Let the game begin."

He left the room silently, slipping out the door we came into. His footsteps on the stairs echoed hollowly from behind the door, eventually disappearing. I looked to Adam and Rickers, my mouth still hanging open. Then, I sank to the ground, my vision going black.

A/N: SO SORRY for the wait. I've had this chapter written, but my computer managed to get a virus and it's just been nuts. Sorry, it's short, too. The next will be long, I promise! Reviews are greatly appreciated and thank you all for sticking with me with how long I've been going with this story. Oh, side note, I saw Saw IV and was pleasantly surprised. I liked it, but they took some of my ideas I had for a Saw IV story I was writing for fun. Curse those corporate writers!! shakes fist angrily Until next time, gang, and thanks for the support!


	40. I'm Staying

Chapter Forty: "I'm Staying"

**Adam's POV**

I watched Maria drop to her knees as Jigsaw walked up the stairs. Suddenly, her eyes seemed to roll in the back of her head and she fell back. I quickly crawled on my hands and knees, catching her limp body right before her head was going to hit the floor. I turned to see Rickers right behind. I was sure he would have been first if he was close enough. I lowered Maria gently, setting her head down on the floor. Rickers came to the other side of her and started brushing her hair away from her eyes.

I could tell by his face that the poor guy was completely heart-broken. I cleared my throat, looking at Maria and back up at him.

"She never told you because she didn't want to hurt you," I explained. "She said that was the last thing she wanted to do. She didn't tell you because she wanted to protect you."

He snorted, a sort of cross between a laugh and a sob. "Protect me? I'm practically her second father. I should protect her. She should've told me, that way I could have helped her . . . Stupid kid, just as stubborn as her dad. He never told anybody what was bothering him, except maybe Maria."

I sighed. "Yeah, I know the feeling."

Rickers looked at me. "Something tells me you weren't the best kid in the family?"

"Hell no. I had an older sister, but she ran off the day she turned 18. But my dad still thought more of her than he ever did of me. I was close to my mom when I was younger, but Dad was always trying to beat the shit of me and her. He came home covered in blood one day, but refused to tell anybody what happened. I planned on leaving as soon as I graduated, but then Mom got sick. The doctors could never figure out what was wrong, but she was in constant pain and bleeding internally. She never told anybody what Dad did to her. Beat her almost everyday, I had to take her to the hospital one day because he hit her hard enough to make her fall down a flight of stairs and into the basement. He just left her there . . .

"She died a little bit after my 20th birthday. After the funeral, I got into a full-on brawl with Dad. It started verbal and then it turned into an all-out fist fight. Both of us were trying to beat the shit out of each other. I knocked out some of his teeth, he broke my nose, crashed into tables, pretty much ruined the whole living room . . . Then I left and never went back. I moved back out here totally on my own, digging around and living off of whatever I could get a hold of. Then I heard the old man finally kicked the bucket about five years ago. I was given some money for inheritance, which got me enough money for a new camera and some rent payments and stuff. I tried working free-lance photography, but I never got anything steady. Then I started getting people who wanted me to spy on others for them. Husbands after cheating wives, wives after cheating husbands, affairs, all that stuff. You can see where that got me. I bet they were proud."

Rickers chuckled. "I'll bet. Hey, kid, everyone makes mistakes. Maybe now you can fix all of them."

I nodded. "Maybe."

We were quiet for a minute. Rickers looked over at me.

"You aren't going to let her choose you, are you?"

I grinned at him. "Not a chance in hell. None of this would've started if she hadn't found me."

"Nah, you can't say that was your fault. He was coming after her one way or another. You were bait, more than anything."

"Exactly. I'm alive for no reason. Besides, you're everything to her. She couldn't take losing you."

"She loves me, but she's not _in_ love with me. That's your job, kid. I've been with her since she was a baby. Her dad was my best friend." He laughed weakly. "She's the best thing that ever happened to me and she's not even my kid. I lived my life with her, you two haven't even started one."

"She already lost her closest family. You actually think she's going to do it again?"

"Well, she's gonna have to. I'm not going to let her pick me, so that leaves you, kid. As long as you promise to take good care of her."

"No, _you_ take good care of her. I'm staying. She needs you."

"For what? I'm an old, worn out cop. I've lived my life and I don't have any regrets for what I've done. You're still a kid. She needs you for when I do go, one way or another."

"You're all she has, Rickers."

He laughed. "You're all she needs. Turned that around on ya, didn't I?"

I laughed with him for a little bit before we went quiet again. Maria groaned, her eyebrows furrowing then relaxing slowly. She reached a hand up to touch her forehead. She breathed heavily, then her eyes shot open as she gasped, probably remembering what happened. Rickers and I smiled at her. She looked at both of us and almost started crying. I touched her cheek lightly.

"Don't start," I said. "Everything's fine."

She sat up slowly and started crying, anyway. "No, no, it's not. I can't do it. I can't choose between you two . . ."

"It's okay, Midge," Rickers answered. "We already decided for you."

"I'm staying," both of us said in unison.

Rickers and I exchanged looks. He raised an eyebrow and made a serious face, which pretty much shut me up in a second.

"_I'm_ staying," he repeated, emphasizing the first word.

Maria looked at him and sighed. "No, Rickers, I can't do it. You're like my second father . . ."

"Midge, I know. That's why I'm going to stay. I had my time with you. I watched ya grow up and took care of you after we lost your dad. I like to think I did a good job, good enough for you to have enough memories of me to last you. You love Adam and I'm just an old man."

She reached over and hugged him close to her. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I should've."

"It's okay, kiddo. I know you missed your dad. I did, too. I still do." He laughed as they separated. "I think that's why I'm ready, too. I miss that old son of a bitch."

Maria laughed weakly as she kept crying. "You'll be raising all sorts of hell, huh?"

"Of course. We have since we were teenagers." He reached with his hand and brushed away tears from her cheek. "Don't worry about me, Midge. I'm a tough old thing. I've had my fun."

"I just can't imagine leaving you here, Rickers. To just die of dehydration and hunger . . ."

My stomach turned violently. I definitely knew that feeling. Knowing how slowly you were going to die, feeling your insides eat themselves and then feel like their dying out, agonizing pain and then slowly nothing, which scared the living hell out of me. Not feeling anything meant that is was close to "your time." Oh, hell, screw the nice terms, you were about to fucking die . . . I swallowed hard, trying to keep some vomit down.

"No, Rickers, I should stay," I said.

He shot me a look again, but I kept my guts while I had them. "Like I said before, I'm not even supposed to be alive. It doesn't matter if I die or not. Besides, I can't picture you going through the same thing I did. I can take it one more time, at least let the bastard finish his job. I'm staying."

"Damn it, kid, can't you let me have a moment of glory?" Rickers demanded. "I'm staying."

"Well, I'm not going to let you."

He laughed. "That's kinda stupid. You know I can break you over my knee if I wanted to. I might just do it at this rate. Just let me stay . . ."

"No, Rickers, she needs you a hell of a lot more than she needs me . . ."

"Kid, I told you, I'm going to stay."

I was about to argue again as the door opened behind us. Jigsaw stepped in, looking at all of us on the floor. I cursed under my breath while Rickers swore out loud. Ten minutes passed that quick? Jesus, and we still didn't have our decision . . . He smiled thinly and looked to Maria.

"Last goodbyes taken care of?" he asked. "Now, have you made your decision?"

All of us stood up slowly, looking to one another.

"I a—" I started before something smacked me in the back of the head and I blacked out.


	41. The Final Decision

Chapter Forty One: The Final Decision

**Maria's POV**

Rickers hit Adam hard across the back of the head, taking him out cold. He caught his limp body before it dropped to the floor, hoisting him up over his shoulder. He looked to Jigsaw seriously.

"I'm staying," he said. "Do whatever you want to me, as long as I get to walk Maria to the door with the kid. I'll come straight back here after that. But these two get out and get nothing more after this, deal?"

Jigsaw crossed his arms in front of him, staring solidly into Rickers's eyes. "I guarantee nothing until I hear Maria's answer. This is her decision, not yours." He met my eyes with his eyes, identical to mine. God, I wanted to kill him . . . "You know better than anyone what happens with someone who doesn't follow the rules properly, Maria. Do you have a decision, or will I be forced to make one for you?"

"You make one for me?" I repeated, not breaking eye contact. It was unnerving how set his gaze was. "I know better than anyone that you don't consider yourself a murderer. What will you do if I don't make a decision? Shoot both of them? That would be murder, _John_."

I spat his name out angrily, as if it left a bad taste in my mind. Jigsaw chuckled and glanced down at his feet with a smile.

"Well, I suppose you do know better than anyone," he said nonchalantly. "No, I wouldn't kill them with my own hands. I have something better planned for whichever one you decide to leave behind."

"What will you do to them?"

"That is none of your concern after you leave this room, Maria. So, now, you have your choices before you. Which love can you not live without? The love of your godfather, the man who was there for you in your lowest times, or the young love that seems to give you and Adam a purpose in life, which is each other? Who is more important?"

I swore and held up a hand to my throbbing head, rubbing my temples. I couldn't make that kind of decision. I couldn't live with the thought of condemning someone I loved, especially to the torture that Jigsaw was known for. No matter what I did, I was going to wake up every morning for the rest of my life knowing that I had been an accomplice to Adam or Rickers's death. Who could possibly do that?

"The decision is heart-wrenching, isn't it?" Jigsaw said softly, examining the room around us, but now ignoring my eyes. "Knowing that you are leading someone you have the strongest feelings for to their own impending deaths. Knowing that no matter what test they are put through, they will more than likely fail. Whether it be Adam's suicidal or weak tendencies or Rickers's age, both of them have impairments that make you wonder if they could survive the test they go through."

"Is that how you felt when you killed your daughter?" I snapped.

"I loved your mother and your grandmother more than anything in the world. Your father was just as much blood to me as anyone. That first test was one of the hardest decisions of my life."

"Then why did you make it?"

"Because I knew it had to be done. You should have learned by now that I am not doing this to make my name in the papers. I never took claim to any of the credit they gave me. I am not the Zodiac killer, clinging desperately to the media's attention for my own thrill ride. My tests are nothing more or nothing less than that: tests. They are simple if one relies strictly on their survival instinct, that primal urge to stay alive at any cost. But some many other things get in the way, weakness." He met my eyes again. "Like emotion. Anger, sympathy, sadness, love, even happiness interfere with the way life should be."

"What the hell are you trying to say?" I sighed in frustration. "I am so sick of all of your elaborate speaking. Just fucking talk already."

"It is not that complicated, Maria. Whether you are willing to admit it or not, I can see in your eyes that you have an understanding of what I do. You know that all of this is for a cause."

"No, it's for your sick entertainment!"

He shook his head. "You know that that's not the reason. If you were honest with yourself, Maria, you can see why I do these tests. The fabric of human nature is disintegrating as we speak, slipping away from the natural instincts that brought us to this point. So where does evolution take one that loses its origins? Does it disappear or does it simply remain suspended in the space it occupies, taking up useful space with useless mass?"

I looked at him. I felt my heart drop into my stomach as the words came out of my mouth. "You're basically taking Darwinism to the next stage. Taking the 'survival of the fittest' into your own hands."

He was right. I understood what he was trying to do with our species. He wanted to ensure that all of those that were alive actually appreciated why they were living. The whole point of survival is understanding and cherishing the fact that one is living in the first place. Jigsaw was fucked up, that was for sure, but, in a twisted way, he was improving the human race. At least as much as he could before his own inappreciative consequence, the cancer that was eating away at him, took him for good. I finally understood . . .

"But, why would you let Adam live?" I asked. "If he was a subject that was destined to die in the first place, why let him live?"

"Honestly, I wasn't planning on it," Jigsaw shrugged, looking at Adam's unconscious body slumped against Rickers. "But something was keeping him alive. Even when he was completely alone in darkness, he saw some sort of light that told him to stay alive. I have never seen anything like that before in my life, before I started testing or since then. Adam Faulkner, though the last possible specimen I would have predicted, has the survival instinct that I thought was inexistent in people. He deserves to live."

"So you tested him multiple times to make sure he had the instinct?"

Jigsaw laughed darkly to himself. "I suppose you could look at it like that, but that was mostly because he was moronic and kept getting himself into traps. That was his own fault. I was out to test you the entire time, but Adam found it necessary to always interfere, so I let him think he was being useful."

Despite myself, I snorted with laughter. That sounded like any guy with the "survival instinct," all brawn, no common sense. I cleared my throat and turned serious again, remembering the dire decision I was being forced to make. Actually, as I thought about it . . .

"You already made it for me," I said out loud, looking to Rickers and Adam. I carried my gaze back to my grandfather. "You already know who's going to live, don't you?"

Jigsaw shook his head. "I know who is worthy of the life they have, but I do not know who is going to live. That decision is in your hands."

"But if I choose Rickers, you'll just go out and grab him again to test him. You don't think Rickers should live."

"You're putting words into my mouth, sweet. On the contrary, Charles has accomplished a lot in his life and has gone above and beyond the situations set before him, like taking in his best friend's daughter, raising her, and staying in the field just to keep an eye on her, even though he's been offered a higher paying, much easier job multiple times. Charles has led a very good life. He won't be tested because I know he appreciates what he has."

"And if I choose Adam?"

"If he learns to stay away from situations he has no control over, which is a vast majority of the time, and learns to lead a life that is for someone else, not just himself, he will appreciate his life more than he already does. He is only 27 years old. He has a lot more to live for, he just had to find it. And I believe he has with you."

"So once I make the decision, you won't bother either of us anymore?"

He nodded. "The point of this test has nothing to do with who you choose to live or die. It has to do with you and your decision, as I've said."

I looked over at Rickers as he held Adam's body over his shoulder. Looking at them, even my unconscious pseudo-boyfriend, I knew how much each one of them meant to me. I had no idea how I could live without either of them. Rickers was my second father, Adam was the first person I have felt anything for in almost my entire life. Rickers had always been there for me, whether I wanted him to be or not. Adam and I had endured a lot together in a short amount of time, being interwoven with each other more than we would ever know. We had a chance to start a new life, one much different than what we had led . . .

I felt tears coming to my eyes again, but I forced myself to hold them back, tired of the stinging pain and just being plain sick of crying. This was the hardest decision I had ever made in my life, but Jigsaw was right. Emotions blocked your senses, altered your decisions. No matter how painful it was, I had to make a choice, otherwise I was ready to or not.

I closed my eyes, unable to look at the two men I loved. I sighed heavily. "Adam," I muttered. "I choose Adam to live."

"Very well," Jigsaw answered calmly.

I opened my eyes, expecting to see pure rage, or worse, disappointment, in Rickers's face, but nothing gave off the hatred I anticipated. In fact, Rickers looked relief, maybe even happy when I opened my eyes. Almost as if he knew the whole time that this was going to the last time he and I would see each other. God, I wanted to cry again.

"Don't make that face, Midge," he said easily. "No regrets, remember? That's what your dad always told you and me."

I nodded sadly, looking at my godfather with watery eyes. "I'm so sorry, Rickers."

Rickers shrugged. "Nothin' to be sorry about. John is right, I've lived a good life. I've done my time here and I have very few, if any regrets." He turned to Jigsaw, who was making his way over to his desk. "Can you at least let me walk her and the kid outside? Last goodbyes and all that sappy shit."

Jigsaw looked up, his usual slight smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. "Go ahead. I'll be making my own soon as well. Walk them to the door, but do not step outside."

**A/N:** FINALLY a new chapter! Yay! Sorry, guys, I took a massively long and brain-melting break during Christmas and New Year's. I seriously have been trying to write this chapter since like January 3rd, but it never came out the way I wanted. I'm pretty happy with the final chapter I ended up with. Hope you liked it, your comments are always awesome, and I will have the next post up when I can! Thanks so much for your support, guys!


	42. Author's Note (THE RETURN!)

**Author's Note/Short Rant Chapter:**

There is no way in hell it's been _five years_ since I went on hiatus with this fic! I cannot believe I did that. I'll be completely honest, I've had the last chapters done in my mind for a long time, but I never thought to post them.

A lot can change in five years, including someone's writing style and overall life. I've loved writing _Survival_, it's actually one of the first stories I've ever posted to allow other people to see, and I was so happy to see so many people be supportive of it. Consider this an unacceptably long vacation. As much as I love fan-fiction, I found I lost interest in trying to create anymore.

So, I make a statement here: I'm determined for that not to happen again. Rereading my old work has made me believe that I can re-edit Survival and still have a great story, so I'll cut everyone a deal. Within the next three weeks, I will have the final chapters of this story posted on this original story. After that, I think I'll be revamping it with some of my altered writing methods, and hopefully beef up the story even more.

When I do that, I'll make sure to let you know.

I just wanted to say thank you _so much_ to everyone who read, reviewed, and tolerated my disappearance in a multitude of my stories. You have no idea how good it makes me feel to know that people are enjoying my writing. If you're a reader from a long time ago, or one how just found this fic from "recently updated," thank you for making it this far with me. All of you are incredible.

**Three weeks.** I'll have this finished for you. You all deserve it.


	43. Our Last

Chapter Forty Two: Our Last

Rickers held a limp Adam by his waist with his right arm, his left holding Adam's arm over his shoulders. He stepped through the door that waited behind us without a word, nodding at me before crossing the threshold. I sighed once more, turning to look at the man that leaned against his desk.

The papers and photos that I had thrown at him were picked up and placed neatly on the desk surface. So many of the locations of the tests we found were dirty, unkempt, but here, in his workspace, it was strangely clean. Of course, the broken coffin and remnants of a simple plastered wall obstructed some of the cleanliness, but I had a feeling, if he hadn't decided to let this be our meeting place, his room would be nearly spotless. _Method to the madness_.

Jigsaw looked in my direction, still holding a steely smile on his face. I wondered for a moment if he really believed in his methods, his testing. Maybe it was all some justification to himself, that he was doing this for reason, not for sympathy, or his own form of karma.

"Cosmic justice," I muttered out loud.

He chuckled, crossing his arms. "You never struck me as a religious type, Maria."

"'Whatever affliction may visit you is for what your own hands have earned' (***1**) … You think all of your subjects earned their places. They deserved their fates."

"On the contrary, they deserved a second chance. A chance to prove they were meant for more than what they had become. I consider it a gift."

"A gift that results in pain and suffering."

"'Action, which springs from the mind, from speech, and from the body, produces either good or evil results. By action are caused the conditions of men, the highest, the middling, and the lowest.' (***2**) The chance to act, to actually earn what they take for granted, is just that: a chance. Action is what proves your worth. I know I am not a holy man; I've never asked to be. And I never sought some higher power to tell me what my existence meant. Opportunity to be something more, to help others be something more, is what I found."

"So you couldn't become a psychiatrist?" I snapped. "Listen to people bitch about their problems rather than chain their fucking feet to pipes, expecting them to cut them off? Or _worse_? Your service to the world is to create mass hysteria, make people afraid?"

"You haven't listened to anything I've said, have you? You remind me so much of your father. So stubborn to accept logic, always letting your heart push you down paths. It's an impressive feature, because so many in the world no longer feel, but it's the greatest weakness. Emotions are what drive us to insanity."

"Do you believe you're sane?"

His dry laugh caused goosebumps on my skin. "Of course not. Doing what I do leads anyone to believe they've lost their mind. But I haven't lost my cause. I will never lose my cause. Whether it is agreed with or not, it's something that had to be done."

"Had to be _done?_"

"I never expected you to understand, Maria. But this is exactly what you needed, is it not? Your obsession with your work, not truly feeling anything for so long … that changed when you met that stubborn boy in the bathroom. You have made your decision. Gave up all of the hindrance of your past to start your present anew. This time, I can only hope you don't take that chance for granted."

The pounding in my ears seemed to drown out his words. "What are you going to do with Rickers?"

"As I've said, what happens to Charles is no longer your concern."

He shook his head before his face finally faltered from its steely expression. For a brief moment, he looked exhausted, worn out. Despite myself, I thought of what might have been: to have the family I never had the chance to appreciate, to have someone understand what I was going through when I was a child … Rickers was so great to me, but he didn't deserve that kind of responsibility thrown at him. A teenage girl who would rather be dead than live without her father, who had lost all hope in everything … He had to bring me back, to make me see the world as a place worth living. Maybe everything would have been different if this man had just told me who he was. If I had the chance to have a decent man be my grandfather instead of this delusional version of altruism, maybe all of this would have never happened.

"You could've been so much more than this," I whispered. "Whatever _this_ is … you could've been so much more."

The old man finally met my eyes, his light blue ones ringed with some unspoken emotion. "I became what I was meant to. Now I can only hope you do the same. Goodbye, Maria."

"Go to hell, _John_."

I turned and walked out of the room angrily.

* * *

***1:** from the _Qu'ran, _Islamic

***2: **_The Laws of Manu_, Hinduism

* * *

**A/N: **First of all, I strongly apologize for the abrupt writing style change ... I never noticed I had changed so much until I went from Chapter 41 to 42.

On the chapter, I always saw John's character as one that focused on religions, but never actually believed in any of them. More than anything, he's been fascinated by their power, by how word of mouth believed to be the "word of higher power" leads some many people into action. I've had it in mind to sit and write out sort of "journal entries" from some of his observations ... I think that would be a lot of fun.

Three more chapters until the finish, folks.


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